


Where the River Meets the Sea

by Marzipan77



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Inspired by Art, Post-Daniel's Descension, Post-Orpheus, Season/Series 07, Spirits, Summer of Stargate Big Bang Challenge 2017, Team Bonding, reconnecting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-18 10:10:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 30,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11289108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marzipan77/pseuds/Marzipan77
Summary: Daniel's return from Ascension was quick - his return to duty at the SGC, to his family, SG-1, even quicker. So quick that he might not be finished. As determined as he is to get his old life back, he's not quite the same - the mission to help Ryac and Bra'tac on Erebus certainly told him that. While Washington is eager to find out what he knows, some old friends need SG-1's help - and they intend to help Daniel, too. Whether he wants them to or not. Let's not even discuss Jack O'Neill's reaction.Spoilers for Spirits, The Fifth Man, and Orpheus. Inspired by artwork by the talented sg1mouse. Betaed by the fabulous DennyJ. All remaining errors are my own.





	1. Chapter 1

 

Daniel shifted another armload of reference books from the box at his feet to the waiting shelves. He checked each spine, making sure the appropriate journal – or journals – were stuck in next to the books that described each applicable Earth civilization. _Minoan Life in Bronze Age Crete_ and Packard's _Minoan Linear A_ took up a good bit of room, but Daniel's journals from The Land of Light were thin enough to fit beside them.

 

He paused, one hand flat against his notebooks as the memories flashed past. Jack attacking him in the Gate room, Teal'c's stoic commands, Melosha, the aches and pains he'd woken up with inside Tuplo's hall. It had been one of the team's first journeys through the Stargate when everything was still new and awe-inspiring and terrifying. When Daniel had been naïve enough to expect to find Sha're on the other side of every wormhole, suddenly whole and snake-less. The empty ache in the center of his chest was a familiar one. It had been softened by time and distance before he'd ascended. Now it was new again. New and fresh, like so many other memories.

 

His childhood. The feel of Egyptian sand between his toes. The sound of the chains breaking, the cover stone falling. Nick's pale indifference to a lost little boy. His foster parents. His studies. Robert and Sarah and Steven. Daniel had relived his young life as the memories surged, wandering in and out and around the scenes as he must have done while he was Ascended. Invisible. Removed. An observer. It wasn't as if he didn't feel the emotions of his eight-year-old self, devastated and grieving, or the slap of rejection in his professional life. But the feelings were softer and Daniel was more aware than ever that he was witnessing everything from a distance.

 

He snorted, digging the rest of the journals from the nearly empty box. Of course he was removed. He wasn't eight any more. Not eight, not eighteen, not twenty-eight. His life no longer tilted and turned on the fulcrum of his losses. At his age – even taking into consideration the year he'd spent as an ethereal being – he should be wiser. More balanced. Able to file away his memories with less angst and more sympathy for those around him living lives of their own.

 

Daniel hoped he'd learned something during his time with the Ancients. Patience. Acceptance. Calm. He brushed the dust off of the old journals and sneezed, hard, and pressed his sleeve against his nose. He may have lost some of his less-useful personality quirks, his quick, knee-jerk reactions, but, unfortunately, all of his physical defects had come back with him.

 

Smiling, Daniel held the short stack of journals as if they were a talisman – a relic. These memories, of his work here, of his teammates and co-workers, held more interest for him.

 

Sam and Daniel had clicked from the very first moment, scientists at heart, geeking out, as Jack would put it, over the DHD, the Abydos cartouche room, and all the new worlds opening to them. Teal'c had been more alien than friend, closed-off and unyielding. A man from another culture who woke both quivering curiosity from the anthropologist inside Daniel and black, feral anger in the husband. Jack had insisted on Teal'c for the team. Daniel had understood it, tactically. It hadn't been until Cartago and the Cor'ai that Daniel had plumbed his emotions and realized that Teal'c had been just as much a victim as Sha're.

 

And Jack –

 

Daniel felt a half-smile tilt his lips upward. As his memories had drifted home, he'd been struck – again – by the way Jack O'Neill had changed since that first mission to Abydos so long ago. Living through the moments of all those years - almost ten years, how the hell had that happened? – had smoothed over the bumps and twists in Jack's road. Retracing the steps of his own lifetime through mission reports, his friends' reminiscences, and his own trickling memories had given Daniel a chance few others had. A chance to relive the good and the bad, to see the truth with 20/20 hindsight, blind as he had been to it in real time, and to track his friend's path without the emotions and urgency of life in the SGC. It had been a gift that Daniel was sure Oma and the Others had never intended to give.

 

The Jack O'Neill of that first mission was dead eyes and cruel control. His hatred of his own life had been mirrored in how he'd treated Daniel, relaxing only in the face of Skaara and the young Abydonian boys who'd flocked to him. Even then Jack had not been able to reject those kids, let alone Kasuf and Sha're and the others – his self-loathing had given way to the man's innate courage and honor. Bright energy had sparked in those dark eyes and a friendship had been forged that couldn't be snapped by time, distance, or a buried Stargate.

 

Jack had welcomed Daniel back to Earth, to life after Sha're, with a strong shoulder to lean on and an empathetic understanding of Daniel's grief and longing. In a tent on Vis Uban, his memories beyond his reach, Daniel had felt that warmth. That same annoying, encouraging connection; a friendship that had survived life and loss and grief, anger and death and resurrection. It had tempted him into wanting more than blue robes, candles, and tents. More than Arrom. Daniel had never been more grateful for that solid foundation. If the emotions still felt a little beige, a bit distant, well, he was doing the best he could.

 

Hands on his hips, Daniel surveyed the continuing evolution of his office with the same long-distance vision. Intellectually, he understood why General Hammond and the SGC had plopped Jonas into Daniel's empty space. They'd banged away at the Kelownan, hoping the books and artifacts and expectations would fit square-peg Jonas Quinn into the hole Daniel's Ascension had left. Logically, he understood. Emotionally, it was a little harder to take, bumping up against Daniel's new control like a piece of rough sandpaper. Daniel was certain that Jonas would tell him the same.

 

Jonas had definitely made the space his own. Brighter lights, pristine surfaces, Daniel's cozy, frumpy, dusty office had been swept away as if with one of his archaeological brushes until hard edges, right angles, and precise organization had emerged. It had worked for Jonas, and, until now, Daniel had been content to leave it. To honor the Kelownan's abrupt bum's rush with a 'here's your hat, what's your hurry' attitude on the part of SG-1 and the rest of the base. But, now, he was restless.

 

Since the mission to Erebus, since those feelings and memories of his own impotence had been dragged to life, Daniel looked at his empty hands and needed to fill them. With books. A pen. A brush. Mission reports. A weapon. Looking down at his flexing fingers, Daniel knew he had to find out what fit. What felt right. What parts of his old life he should curate, collect, and bring to the present. To his new life. The life he'd left and been given back again.

 

He'd dropped Teal'c off in the infirmary this morning in Janet's capable hands. His friend was still healing, the torture he'd endured on Erebus coming much too soon after the staff blast had nearly cut him in half in the 'gate room. Thankfully, the Jaffa's constitution was still leaps and bounds ahead of a human's, regardless of the fact that he'd lost his symbiote. Teal'c was recovering, mentally as much as physically. Daniel hoped he was helping with that. The daily meditation with his teammate was certainly helping him. The meditative state had led Daniel to access the memories that had been teasing the corners of his mind, leaving him following like a bloodhound on a fraying scent. Meditation had opened the way, allowing him to access the memory he needed to find Ryac and Bra'tac. The Ascended beings who had sent Daniel back to Earth – who had thrown him out of heaven – had left him a thin strand of thread to follow back if he had tenacity to do it.

 

Daniel reached for another set of books, still in the Ms. He nodded. He'd stick to alphabetical order. It might not be historic chronology, but it would make it easier for others to find references they might need. Medes. Mesopotamia. Myceneans. He shook his head as he shelved Mylonas' ground-breaking work, Schliemann and Gladstone's 'popularization' from the late 1800s, and Papahatzis' discussion of Mycenae, Epidaurus, Tiryns, and Nauplion that had been required reading in Daniel's Greek History classes. None of these books had done much to keep Jack from falling under the influence of the Goa'uld Pelops' nanites.  He remembered assisting with the birth, Kynthia's dance, Jack's smirk. "Only for you," he murmured, smiling. Jack's cake eating days – off-world at least – had ended right there and then.

 

Daniel paused, paging through his journal entries, written with a dark cloud of loss hovering close around his shoulders. They'd been sure they were losing Jack, then. Daniel's best friend had been aging to death on the other side of the Stargate, alone and abandoned. Daniel slid his fingers along the words he'd dug deep into the paper in anger, desperate to do something, anything, to help his friend. Furious with the military and medical decision to leave Jack to his fate.

 

"I see you're settling in, Doctor Jackson."

 

Daniel looked up, blinking, tearing himself away from the memories and back to the present. "General Hammond. Yes, or, trying to." He slid the journal into place, dusted off his hands, and stepped away from the shelves. "Something I can do for you or are you on your way to somewhere else?"

 

Hammond glanced around at the half-filled shelves, the empty cartons stacked beside the door, and the short stack of boxes still overflowing with books and notebooks. Hands behind his back, he huffed, as if in satisfaction. "I must say that I'm glad to see this." His eyes met Daniel's. "Glad to see you turning this space back into one I recognize. It makes your return feel more permanent."

 

Daniel tucked his chin and shoved his hands into his pockets. "It seems like the right time."

 

"It certainly does," Hammond sighed.

 

Raising his head, Daniel peered intently at the man before him. George Hammond hadn't changed much during Daniel's time away. He was still straight-backed and confident. A strong commander who led the men and women of the program with his heart as well as his head. It was an impossible position, standing between inconceivable threats from beyond the 'gate and political infighting here on Earth. The man before him had earned every line on his face, every tube of Rolaids in his desk drawer, each rise in his blood pressure. Daniel's gratitude towards George Hammond was fathomless – for taking a chance on a loud-mouthed civilian, for each and every time he gave Daniel a pass on what would have been insubordination in any of his airmen, for listening and defending Daniel to his superiors. For being a friend.

 

The two held an easy gaze across the clutter of Daniel's office, sharing the sentiments each man had trouble speaking out loud. Daniel nodded, swallowing, thankful that this man had been the one to welcome him home. It was Daniel who turned away first, overwhelmed.

 

"Ah, Jonas had his own method of organization, one more scientific, perhaps, than mine." He adjusted his glasses. "I'm sure it appealed to a man from another planet who had never heard of Earth's ancient cultures. One who hadn't been studying them for his entire life."

 

Hammond chuckled. "The man was obsessed with The Weather Channel," he stated, as if that explained everything. The general pointed. "What did you do with the television?"

 

Daniel swiveled to stare at what had been a huge empty space before he'd filled it back up with books and artifacts. "Oh, I donated it to the rec room." He shrugged. "If the engineers could figure out a way to get reception 28 floors down inside the mountain, at least the SG teams stuck on base could watch sports."

 

"Uh huh." Hammond's expression was doubting. "And this had nothing to do with a certain colonel complaining about missing the Stanley Cup finals during lockdown?"

 

Pasting on an innocent face, Daniel smiled. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

 

"Of course not." Hammond tightened his lips and then deliberately reached behind him to close Daniel's office door.

 

Yeah, that didn't seem ominous at all.

 

"Daniel."

 

Or the fact that the general was using Daniel's first name.

 

"I wanted to come down to talk to you. Off the record."

 

"Sir?" Daniel glanced up at the camera over his office door. No little red light. Interesting. He waved one hand to his empty desk chair, choosing to perch on the edge of his work table.

 

Hammond shook his head. "This won't take long. I – I'll admit," Hammond brushed one hand across his head, "I should have expected something like this to come up. And I did, but I had no idea it would come up so soon, before you were really settled, before we had a plan in place to protect you."

 

Daniel's eyebrows were trying to rise off his head. "Protect me? From what?"

 

"From Kinsey. From Area 51. From those in our government who would like to know how much you remember from your time among the Ascended Ancients."

 

Lips pressed tight, Daniel nodded, a cold feather of dread brushing slowly up his spine. Yes. He should have expected it. Especially now. After Erebus. When he could no longer claim that he didn't remember anything.

 

"So, it's starting," he murmured.

 

Hammond's eyes sparkled, fierce and angry. "They're sending a team – medical, psych, neurology. They're due to arrive next week to 'debrief you.'"

 

Daniel shrugged and then shook his head. "They're welcome to try, General. They won't find anything." His smile felt hollow. "You've seen an example of how powerful these beings are. You watched Shifu send me into a dream state, dial the 'gate, collapse the iris, and leave. You've read our mission reports of Kheb. About Anubis. It doesn't surprise me that someone has decided to challenge them – I've seen the hubris of those in power, how some of our military and government refuse to believe that there is anything in the galaxy that is more powerful than they are."

 

"Son," Hammond stepped forward.

 

"General. Please." Daniel raised both hands. "I know you'd protect me from this if you could. But, as you said, we should have expected it." His mind raced with visions of bright, swooping lights, a monk on Kheb, smoked and charred bodies. He blinked an inner eye and found himself invisible, unnoticed, standing at the Erebus Stargate, watching Bra'tac and Ryac being taken away in chains. He stood in a cell as Jack was brought back from Ba'al's sarcophagus, his body alive again while his spirit slowly died. In a swirl of light and heat, he hovered above Teal'c and Bra'tac, giving strength while the two Jaffa suffered. "I wonder, General, if we're thinking about this the wrong way around."

 

Hammond linked his fingers and let his hands drop in front of him. "Please explain."

 

Truth shook through Daniel – the hints and traces of his ascended life mingling with the memories he'd recovered. "Sir, the Ascended Ancients are powerful. And they do not appreciate 'lowers,' people like you and me, interfering in their plans." He moved away from his work table. "I'm convinced it's one of the reasons I was …" Discarded. Ejected. Dismissed. Daniel struggled for a word that encompassed the loss and pain and certainty of his descension. "One of the reasons I left. I interfered. In my pride, I believed I knew a better way. Maybe I was right and maybe I was wrong, but I think we should be more concerned about protecting our people, this base – even Earth –" he raised his hands to encompass the world around him, "- from the Ancients. From what might happen if the politicians get their way and try to force my memories."

 

The general's eyebrows twitched. "I hadn't considered that. What do you suggest?"

 

"I'd like to talk to my team, sir," Daniel admitted. Jack would rant and rave, kick things, and then get quiet and clever and come up with a battle plan. Sam was smarter than the rest of them put together – and she'd been outwitting the military higher-ups for decades. And Teal'c – well, Teal'c was the most stalwart friend and defender Daniel could ever ask for. Daniel needed them, needed them to look at the problem from all sides, not just his. "But I think it might be best to get me off-world."

 

"I had thought of that. I'd even come up with a long-term mission designed to keep you and SG-1 off-world for a few months. Unfortunately, barring an emergency, I've been ordered to stand down SG-1 until this … team … arrives."

 

"'Barring an emergency,'" Daniel echoed, his thoughts rippling.

 

Hammond was a step ahead. "I've taken the liberty of contacting a few of our allies. Sending a few messages with other teams. They're ready to assist if necessary."

 

"Thank you." Daniel frowned, intent. "Really. Thank you, General. For all you've done, for all you continue to do. I know –" Scenes spun to life in his memory, colorful and bright. Hammond standing at the foot of Daniel's sick-bed. Sitting beside him. Saluting. Sitting at Jack's side, letting Daniel's teammate get shit-faced drunk after Daniel died. Hammond signing off on a week's leave for Janet and Sam. His silent meals with Teal'c. Daniel took a deep breath. "I know how much you sacrificed when I died – ascended. How you held the team together. How you did not leave the base for two weeks afterward, didn't get to see your granddaughters, because you knew Jack and Sam and Teal'c needed you."

 

Hammond's blue eyes were soft, sparkling with something other than anger. "You know that?"

 

"Yes, sir." Daniel ducked his head. A moment later he felt the older man's broad hand on his shoulder.

 

"We all needed it, Daniel. We all grieved. Mourned. And staying together was our only hope to get past it. Not to get over your loss, that was not going to happen, but to be able to function day by day in a world without you." The hand squeezed. "Jack once said he knew you were here, watching over us. I guess I'm going to have to tell him that he was right, just this once."

 

Daniel smiled widely. "Just this once, sir. We wouldn't want it to go to his head."

 

"Definitely not." Hammond stayed at Daniel's side. "I hope –" he frowned, his mouth closing over the words he'd intended to say.

 

"Sir?" Daniel prompted the other man.

 

"I know we threw you back into it too soon. Practically as soon as you came through the Stargate. I only hope that you understand why." Hammond's voice was quiet but intense. "Because, for my part, your return was somewhat of a miracle. And I was not going to waste one moment of that gift looking it in the mouth, if you understand my meaning."

 

"I think I do, sir." He did. This Daniel, the one with distance and hindsight, the one who had the chance to look back on the trials and tensions of life at the SGC and relearn lessons of friendship and duty, he understood. The Daniel of The Land of Light, or Euronda, or Heliopolis might have wondered or misunderstood, he might have been hurt or felt rejected, but not this Daniel. This AD Daniel, Ante-Descension Daniel grasped those things the general, Jack, and the others might never be able to say.

 

"Very good." Hammond cleared his throat. "I'm scheduling some down time for SG-1. Now that Teal'c has been released by Doctor Frasier, you all should get off-base, relax. You, especially, need some time here on good ole Earth to reacclimate. Find an apartment. I've got Captain Conners down in Finance ready to assist you with whatever you need." Walking towards Daniel's door, Hammond looked back over his shoulder. "I'm certainly not going against orders to send you off-world, so Colonel O'Neill's house is going to have to be good enough."

 

Daniel chuckled. The general knew them all so well. "Does Jack know you've volunteered him, sir?"

 

"Oh, I'm sure he would have volunteered it himself. Eventually," Hammond answered. He met Daniel's gaze. "We're going to do everything we can, Doctor Jackson."

 

Smiling, Daniel nodded. "Thankfully, I do remember exactly what 'everything' can mean when you're talking about yourself and SG-1."

 

One hand on the door, Hammond chuckled. "Indeed."


	2. Chapter 2

"Hey. You're on time."

Daniel looked up from fastening his belt. "You said to meet you by your car at 1630." He checked his watch. "It's 1615." He shrugged. "Seemed reasonable."  
Jack waved one hand through the air before shrugging off his BDU jacket and slamming his locker open. "Not complaining. Just pleasantly surprised."

Daniel straightened his shirt and sat down to pull on his boots. "I don't remember being late. Being a late person, I mean. Was I?"

Jack pursed his lips, tugging his shirt off over his head and tossing it in the direction of the hamper. "Not per se. You got wrapped up in your research sometimes. Had to be dragged away kicking and screaming." Stripped now to boxers and socks, Jack hesitated. "Come to think of it, that really didn't happen all that often. More like a cliché that got passed around the base. You know, absent-minded professor stuff. Hell, you and Carter beat me to the base a lot of mornings."

"Sorry to alter the paradigm," Daniel replied. "Would you like me to wander off so you can chase after me?"

"No. No, no." Jack flashed a closed-mouthed smile his way. "Like I said, more like a cliché. And I hate clichés."

Shaking his head, Daniel sat back to watch his friend. The gestures were familiar, habitual movements that Daniel must have witnessed time after time, before and after missions. He'd seen Jack sopping wet, covered in mud, bruised and beaten. He'd seen him joyful, raucous, defeated and depressed. He knew there was a box of mementos buried at the bottom of Jack's locker, small things he'd kept of Charlie's, of Sara's. His father's pipe. A weird looking fishing lure that could have been the model for a Goa'uld symbiote from Chaka's planet. Daniel looked to his own locker, the name plate shiny and new. Before he and Jonas had taken off for Anubis's ship, he'd traced the letters with his fingers, slid his hands across the uniforms hung neatly within it. Unopened toiletries. Clean and new. In pride of place right beside Jack's.

"No one used my locker?" Daniel suddenly found himself asking.

Jack's hesitation was barely noticeable. "Um. No. I guess not."

"That's weird."

Jack didn't turn. "You know the military. Stuck in a rut. They would have caught up to it in time. Assigned it to someone else. Eventually."

Daniel heard the lie beneath Jack's easy manner. A year later? He didn't think so. He imagined a surly colonel and a silently menacing Jaffa reacting to some other guy's name being slapped on Daniel's locker. The thought warmed him, linked him more firmly to this man in front of him. "You kept it. Kept it from being reassigned to someone else. Just like you kept so many of my things." He ran one hand down the blue sweater, the comfortable pair of well-worn jeans.

Jack tucked in his shirt and then turned until he was sideways to Daniel, head twisted to glare down at him. "Did you see that with your Ascend-o-Vision?"

Closing his eyes, Daniel chased a thread of memory, his vision of the locker room changing to a higher vantage point, hovering above Jack and Teal'c, Ferretti and Dixon as they scrambled to get ready for an S&R mission. He hadn't been focused on the names on the lockers, but the men standing in front of them. Daniel remembered worry. Pride. Unbearable separation. Eager curiosity as he was pulled away.

Oma hadn't wanted him to spend time with his friends. That much he remembered.

"I don't think I noticed," he replied, settling firmly back in the here and now.

One foot on the bench, Jack laced up his boot. "We noticed. Every damn day, Daniel. We noticed."

There was sorrow in Jack's tone. Regret. A lingering trace of anger. And a lot of gratitude. No matter how many times he claimed he was a simple man, just a dumb colonel doing his job, Jack O'Neill was anything but. Complex. Layered. A good man – a good friend. Daniel couldn't let Jack continue to think that he was the only one who'd mourned. Who'd been lost.

Daniel opened his mouth and a klaxon sounded, red lights flashing across both men's faces.

"Unscheduled off-world activation! Repeat, unscheduled off-world activation! All duty officers report to their stations."

Daniel stood, yanked to his feet by the scent of snow, a few low notes from a woodwind, and a playful breeze whipping the tops of tall fir trees.

Jack's voice came from far away. "It's okay, Daniel. We're off duty. Let Dixon handle it."

"No," Daniel breathed, already turning away, reaching for the door.

"Hey. Daniel."

The tune trilled along Daniel's nerves, forcing his feet to move faster. The rough grip on his upper arm barely managed to stop him at the elevator. Jack pressed him back against the wall.

"Daniel." The colonel's eyes were dark with concern, his mouth a straight line. "What the hell is happening?"

Daniel fumbled for a hold on Jack's wrist, trying to pry his hand away. "It's for us, Jack. They want us. We have to go-"

One finger waved in front of Daniel's face. "Ah-ah! Is this more of your visions? Ascended memories?"

Shaking his head, Daniel pushed forward, forcing Jack to hold on tighter to keep him still. "No. I just – I just know. They need us."

"Who needs us?" Jack barked.

The alarm roared to life again, right above the teammates' heads. Harriman's voice was shaky, pitched too high. "All SG teams to their stations! The iris – the iris is gone." The microphone squealed, the ear-splitting whine making both Jack and Daniel duck and cover their ears. It was Dixon's calm, controlled voice that took over.

"Second team, fall back behind blast doors. Fall back behind blast doors. Lockdown. Lockdown. Lockdown. O'Neill, Carter, get your asses down here. The incoming wormhole is stable and open, planet designation unknown. Keep your eyes open, everybody. And somebody break out the Tok'ra TERs, we might have a Reetou situation. All teams acknowledge, by the numbers."

Jack straightened, swiping his key card with one hand to call the elevator while he kept hold of Daniel with the other. "Okay. Enough. Talk to me, Daniel."

Forehead creased, Daniel blinked at the other man, the melody still beckoning him. "Can't you hear it?"

Dragging Daniel along with him into the elevator, Jack pressed him into a corner while he banged on the controls to close the doors and get them to 28. "Hear what?" He turned back to Daniel, the military man's false calm fighting with the friend's all-out worry. "What exactly are you hearing that I can't? And, can I just say, deja view!"

Daniel frowned. "I'm not sure. A flute? I guess it's a flute, although we never saw any instruments on the planet." He reached out, suddenly remembering. "Oh! You never got to the planet, that's right. You were injured." He touched Jack's left arm above the elbow.

"Okay, now I'm getting worried," Jack stated, releasing Daniel just as the elevator doors slid open behind him. "Maybe you should sit this one out, Daniel." He raised a hand to stop him as Daniel started forward. "No, I'm not kidding. If you're hearing voices –"

Behind Jack, the elevator door opened to a hallway crowded with SGs 16 and 18. Jack blew out a loud, frustrated breath and bent to the necessity of moving forward, unable to keep Daniel from following him. The colonel was handed a vest, a sidearm, and a P90 – Daniel the same, except the weapon that was shoved into his hands was a TER, a Tok'ra device for making the invisible visible – and then destroying it. Daniel shoved it back into the lieutenant's hands.

"We don't need these." Daniel moved forward, first in the wake of Jack's determined stride and then, once they moved past the bottleneck and towards the blast door, by his side. Another ripple of awareness brushed across his mind. This time it was his hand reaching out to stop his friend. "Wait."

Before Jack could respond – yell, bark, remind Daniel who was in charge or that they needed intel – the solid metal door between them and the Gate Room shimmered. Flashed. And was gone.

Standing in the gap, the light from the open wormhole behind her dying her silver fur blue, stood a grey wolf.

"T'akaya," Daniel greeted her, stepping forward to put himself between the airmen's guns and their visitor. "It's been a long time."

The wolf growled and chuffed, her mouth opening and closing as her head turned right and left, taking in the trained soldiers, their raised weapons, and the flashing lights of the alarm. In another moment she rose on her hind legs, her form shifting and changing, until the real body of the alien emerged, her long silver gown flowing like water. "Not much has changed," the woman observed. Her yellow-flecked eyes focused on Daniel's. "Or has it?"

The PA system erupted from somewhere over Daniel's shoulder. "O'Neill! What the hell –"

Jack grabbed the radio on his shoulder. "Stand down, Dixon." His eyes never left the tall alien woman, his right hand holding his rifle against his chest. "Just an old friend come to visit." He released the radio's button and jerked his chin in T'akaya's direction. "You are an old friend, right?" One finger made a series of circles in the air. "You're not planning to disappear anybody, are you?"

T'akaya folded her hands at her waist, the gills across her face undulating. Behind her, six airmen appeared in the Gate Room in a flash of light – minus their weapons. "Of course not, Colonel O'Neill. You are friends of Tonane. I have come in his name."

"Well, that's - just great." Jack flashed a false smile. "You could have called, you know. Given us a heads up. Made an appointment."

T'akaya tilted her head, watching Daniel's teammate carefully as the alarms faded and the airmen beside them stood down. "Tonane asked and I have come. It is as simple as that."

"You dug up your Stargate? To come to see us?" Daniel glanced towards Jack, hoping the man would tone down the sarcasm. "It must be important for you to do that."

"It is important. The most important." T'akaya's gills rippled, quivering in a pattern too fast for Daniel to follow. "Tonane is dying."


	3. Chapter 3

The briefing room seemed crowded. Hammond had been at home, already off duty, but, notified of the unexpected visit, he was due back at the base in a few hours. Colonel Dixon sat at the head of the table, confident and alert, but clearly wishing that their visitor had showed up a few hours sooner, before the general had left for the day. The leader of SG-16 had seemed a little less tense after T'akaya had stood at the large window looking down on the Gate Room and had restored the iris and the blast door without blinking an eye. The weapons she'd taken from the SFs on duty there were gone forever, but the men and women seemed unharmed.

 

Dixon was still a little twitchy, his deployment to the SGC beginning a few months after their adventure with the Salish and their "spirit" protectors. SG-11 and Captain Connors – the original team sent to PXY-887 - were gone – gone twice over. Daniel cringed. They should probably stop using the number eleven. Dr. Warner had retired two years ago, before Daniel's death and ascension. Besides SG-1 and General Hammond, there weren't many on base who'd had any experience with the shape-changing aliens. Daniel and SG-1 claimed their usual places around the table, with Janet Frasier sitting in at the other end, medical files spread out in front of her. T'akaya had agreed to sit at Daniel's left hand, between him and Teal'c. For now.

 

"I have delivered my message. Why is there hesitation?" She'd been curt and cool, something Daniel remembered about the alien woman, but had softened somewhat when Daniel explained their concerns, and the need to brief Dr. Frasier so that she could bring the medical supplies that she needed.

 

The alien had bowed deeply, her bearing losing a great deal of its icy composure. "Our own power cannot touch Tonane's pain – believe me, we have tried. Now he waits, patient as he has always been, through these final days of his physical existence." She'd turned to Janet, her other-worldly eyes filled with sorrow, "If you can help him, I will stay and tell you all I know."

 

"We won't delay any longer than necessary," Janet had replied, her compassion obvious. "My team is already gathering supplies."

 

T'akaya had delivered her message, told SG-1, Colonel Dixon, and Dr. Frasier that Tonane, the leader of the Salish people on PXY-887, had fallen ill and that he had made a last request of the Spirits, the beings that had protected and supported his people since the Goa'uld had transported them to the planet millennia ago.

 

"Tonane would speak to his brothers Jack and Daniel and Teal'c, and his sister, Sam, from across the stars," T'akaya stated again. "I did not – we did not anticipate that your people could prolong his life."

 

"And I'm not promising that we can. Only that we'd like to try," Janet answered.

 

T'akaya sat back in her chair. "I would … like that, too, Doctor Frasier. But I know little of human bodies. We are – not like you. Tonane's energy fades, his spirit longs for the beyond." Her head tilted to the side, like a bird's, she studied Daniel. "You understand."

 

Silence dropped like a thick curtain around the conference room table. Daniel watched all the color leave Janet's face, saw the way Sam flinched out the corner of his eye. The words T'akaya used echoed with other memories, memories that were layered with pain and loss and despair. Daniel felt the weight of the gauze on his sloughing skin, like rough, callused hands holding him in place. He remembered the hopelessness, his friends' farewells, and Janet's panic at the end.

 

He realized, after much too long a silence, that everyone was waiting for him to say something. "Yes, I understand. Tonane is a good man. I'm – we're honored that he thought of us at a time like this."

 

"Right." Jack cleared his throat, attempting to drag this meeting away from bad memories and towards action. "I'm sure that General Hammond will approve SG-1 and a medical team heading out to meet with him. Let's just get a few things straight before then."

 

T'akaya focused her attention across the table. "What things must be straightened?"

 

"Has your Stargate been buried since our first meeting? Has there been any Goa'uld activity, from ships or otherwise?" Teal'c's voice rumbled across Daniel's sensitive nerves like a balm. "Are there threats to Tonane's people or to ours if we travel to your world?"

 

"Threats occur. Trees fall. Stones break away from the mountains. We ourselves are long-lived, absorbing energy from the stars. The process of human life and death, what is a threat and what is not, does not resonate." T'akaya swept her gaze around the table to settle on Teal'c. "We have seen no Goa'uld nor Jaffa nor their ships for many ages of man. The Circle of Standing Water, as Tonane's people describe it, had been buried deep in the mountain since your coming. It awakened at our touch today."

 

"What do your people call the Stargate? The Circle of Standing Water?" Sam asked, scientific curiosity unabated.

 

T'akaya bent her head the other way. "Why should we call it anything else?"

 

Daniel could feel Sam's eagerness from across the table. "But you told us before that you are natives to the planet. That you lived there before the Goa'uld brought Tonane's people. You must have a name for it in your language."

 

Before Daniel could shake his head or correct her, he was hit by a wave of thought. Of sensations. The cool wash of heat from a young sun, stars' song like chiming bells, the creak and pop of continents crawling across a planet's molten core. He breathed out a raging river, breathed in a silent snowfall.

 

Next to him, T'akaya remained still, her mouth closed beneath the strange v-shaped gills across her face. Daniel folded his hands together in his lap, squeezing hard to remind himself that he was here, in his body, physical and human.

 

"I don't think T'akaya's people rely on verbal or written language. Not anymore," Daniel found his voice.

 

"My people are not important." T'akaya spoke sternly. "It is Tonane who is dying. Our power cannot heal his body." She turned towards Janet. "Yours may."

 

"Well, I, more than anyone else here, can appreciate your single-mindedness." Jack flashed a smile at the alien woman before he turned to the temporary base commander. "Dixon?"

 

The colonel's eyes narrowed, measuring the alien, her obvious power, and the simple request for medical assistance. "The SGC is not in the habit of refusing aid to our friends." He leaned forward. "You are our friends, right?"

 

T'akaya twisted awkwardly to face Dixon. "Tonane is our friend. He names Jack and Daniel and Sam and Teal'c his friends." She peered closely at Jack, at Daniel. "Is there more that must be said? Tell me, and I will say it."

 

Dixon turned to spear O'Neill with his stare. "You okay to head out?"

 

"Raring to go." Jack shoved away from the table and moved to stand. Before he could, Dixon was speaking again.

 

"All but Jackson. General says he's got orders to trim Doctor Jackson's wings for the time being."

 

If looks could kill, Dixon would be quivering mound of flesh. Daniel's fingernails bit harder into his skin. He knew what Jack was thinking - this was the opportunity. The perfect excuse to get away from Earth before some government goons tried to stick their fingers in Daniel's ears and pull his brains out. The set of his friend's jaw told Daniel as much. Sam and Teal'c looked equally ready to argue.

 

"No."

 

It was T'akaya who ended the argument before it had a chance to begin. She stood, her gown gleaming in the stark light of the briefing room. "Daniel must come. All of Daniel's friends must come. The healer must come. It is Tonane's wish and," her head turned slowly to take them all in, "it is my 'mission'." The word was foreign to her tongue. "You, here, understand 'mission.'" She raised both hands, palms facing each other in a gesture Daniel remember all too well.

 

"Hey, hold on. Please don’t do that." He rose next to her, trying not to crowd the powerful alien but with urgent intent. "I'm sure Colonel Dixon understands that helping an ally and making friends with some of the most powerful beings we've ever encountered through the Stargate is much more important – "

 

"- necessary," Jack added. "Important and necessary. We remember what happened the last time we pissed – ah – annoyed you people. Don't want that happening again."

 

"Indeed. We shall also be given the chance to discuss how your people rid yourselves of the Goa'uld. Is that not part of our primary mission, ColonelDixon?"

 

"I have a personal responsibility to render medical assistance to those who ask." Janet was quick to join in. "Colonel, if this man, Tonane, is dying, I don't have a lot of time for discussion."

 

Dixon's half-smile told Daniel that the leader of SG-16 was already convinced. "Looks like you'll be taking your team to PXY-887, O'Neill." Dixon nodded. "I'll brief the general when he arrives. Doc, can you be ready within the hour?"

 

Janet stood. "Within the half-hour, sir."

 

"Okay. SG-1, you have a go."

 

As the chairs pushed back from the table, Daniel remained standing beside T'akaya, one hand half-raised as if he could physically keep her from using her power.

 

"What has happened?" the alien asked, frowning as the team scattered, two SFs and Colonel Dixon hovering near the stairwell.

 

"We're coming. We're all coming, T'akaya. We just have to gather what we need."

 

Sam ducked back into the briefing room. "Daniel?" She looked him up and down, taking in the sturdy jeans, boots, and warm shirt. "I'll meet you in the Gate Room with your vest, jacket, and pack. Anything you need from your office?"

 

Relief swamped him for a minute and he turned. "Thanks, Sam. No, my standard pack will be fine." As she smiled and headed off, he turned back to T'akaya. "We can wait for my friends here, or down in the Gate Room." Jack wouldn't want the alien to wander around the base – it hadn't turned out very well the last time that happened. He'd trust Daniel to keep her busy.

 

The alien woman did not lower her arms, but watched him with her oddly colored eyes. "Or we can go to Tonane's side. Now. As quickly as I came."

 

"Jackson?" Dixon took a step towards them.

"I don't think my friends would like that, T'akaya. They'd worry about me. And someone will need to lead them from the Gate to the Salish camp." Curiosity tugged at Daniel, warm and fragrant, like a glowing fire. "And I'm not sure how safe your method of transportation is for us." He raised his eyebrows at her lifted hands.

 

"You are safe with me, Daniel." Her features relaxed, her stern bearing lightening. She let her hands fall, one coming to rest flat against Daniel's chest. "You know that. Here."

 

The warmth spread like fingers carding through Daniel's soul. "I do."

 

"You have journeyed far. You have walked in the deep spaces, waded in the river of the stars." T'akaya moved closer until her silky robe brushed against his clothes. "Your soul is much the same, and yet changed by your journey. You know this."

 

He dipped his head. "I do," he whispered. He saw Dixon at the edge of his vision, walking closer, one hand on his sidearm.

 

"Your journey is not ended. You believe it is. Your friends believe so, too. But it is not." The alien woman brought her other hand up to lay across his forehead. "There are steps to be taken. Choices to be made. She who is Mother whispers."

 

"Oma?" Daniel barely mouthed the word. Did T'akaya and the other Spirits have a connection to the Ancients? To the Ascended beings?

 

"Doctor Jackson. Daniel."

 

"A guide will be sent. Your people are promised safety. All your people. Direction. A straight path to Tonane. I would not risk Tonane."

 

"I know that," Daniel answered. "But they –"

 

She didn't look away, but her words were clearly for Dixon. "T'akaya pledges the safe return of Daniel Jackson. This one. When his Journey is finished."

 

"Now hold on there." Dixon gestured at the edge of Daniel's vision, drawing the SFs closer.

 

Time slowed. Daniel heard the weapons leave their holsters, snaps clicking like gunshots, fabric scraping like gravel underfoot. He blinked, a dark curtain lowering by inches and then rising again. Then it was just T'akaya and him in the briefing room, alone. Daniel tried to speak, to retreat from the alien's energy, now wrapped around them both in a silver shimmer, like her gown. An instant later they stood in the Gate Room, the puddle of an open wormhole quivering behind her.

 

"Come, Daniel. The Journey awaits you."

 

And then they were gone.


	4. Chapter 4

The frozen grass crunched under Jack's boots, a few last pellets of freezing rain smacking against his cheek as the winter storm gave way before the warmer wind. It would have been nice if someone had let them know that it was winter on this side of the 'gate. The brisk pace he'd set away from the Stargate had helped keep him warm – that and the anger that burned in Jack's gut. He should have expected it. The aliens might have talked a good game about trust and protection, but they'd done their best to screw the SGC when they'd first met – even in the name of helping Tonane and his people – but they were too damned powerful – too alien – to take at face value. He shook his head, sending a thin sheet of ice and water from the bill of his cap to splash in a puddle beside the path.

 

Up ahead, the red fox that had met them at the Stargate appeared at the edge of Jack's vision. Waiting. Mouth open, tongue hanging out, it looked like the damned animal was laughing at him. He fingered his P90, his gloves keeping the cold metal from burning his skin. He'd never wanted to shoot an animal more in his life. As if it sensed his mood, the fox dipped its head and loped on ahead.

 

Checking behind him, Jack motioned Teal'c to take point while he dropped back to check on Frasier. The doc wasn't used to off-world hikes – especially not forced marches through sleet and rain. The corpsman she'd brought was built like a brick outhouse, shouldering a pack full of medical crap like it was a basket of wildflowers. Carter was bringing up the rear, her head on a swivel, making sure their line didn't draw out farther than shouting distance. Jack met his second's fierce blue eyes for an instant, registering their mutual dislike of the current situation before he fell in beside the doctor.

 

Frasier never complained – didn't say a word at Jack's barked commands. She'd fallen in line and kept up and kept her mouth shut, holding onto her own worried anger as tightly as any of the rest of them.

 

"How you holding up, Doc?" Jack asked, catching the small woman's elbow as her foot slipped on an icy patch of brown weeds.

 

"Fine, Colonel. Thank you," she muttered, taking her arm back with a thinly disguised grimace. "The faster we get to the village and find Daniel, the better."

 

"I couldn't agree more." And maybe shoot that T'akaya in the ass. Friends. Sure. Someone needed to sit that alien down and explain the whole not kidnapping civilians thing to the woman and Jack O'Neill was volunteering.

 

Dixon had gone all mea culpa on Jack as soon as Jack found his way to the Gate Room after the second alarm sounded. He'd been spitting mad, shouting orders for SG-16 to gear up and go with them to haul Daniel back through the Stargate.

 

"Hell, at least you're off the hot-seat for "letting" Daniel go through the Gate," Jack had told him as the iris shimmered back into existence in front of his eyes. "These aliens are powerful. We thought we were going to lose the entire base the last time."

 

The other colonel had looked ready to spit nails. "So, losing one man. You're saying we got away easy?"

 

"No, I'm not saying that," Jack snarled in reply. He'd flung out one arm towards the Stargate. "I'm saying we're taking the fight to them this time. Starting with our 'friend' Tonane."

 

"God dammit, Jack," Dixon had muttered under his breath. "We just got him back. Say the word and every team on this base will be on your six."

 

It had warmed the cockles of Jack's heart, but he couldn't allow it. He wasn't kidding when he'd told Dixon the aliens were powerful, and taking a full complement of Marines, a SWAT team, and an armored tank wouldn't make a difference. T'akaya could have left those four SFs disappeared for good. Them, the iris, the blast door, and anything else she wanted to get rid of. She'd made a promise, Dixon had said. A promise to keep Daniel safe and to return him. Jack wanted to believe that promise, but he wasn't going to risk more than his own team to make sure of it. And Frasier. That tiny dictator was not about to take 'it's not safe,' 'you're not going,' or 'over my dead body' for an answer.

 

"The fox isn't talking," Jack advised the doctor, "but Teal'c and Carter said the last time we visited, the tribe's village was a two-day walk from the Stargate."

 

"Don't worry about me, sir." Janet kept her head down, watching her footing. "I've had 72-hour shifts filled with bleeding, vomiting, and moaning officers, an untraceable virus, and periodic power failures to worry about. A nice walk in the fresh air seems like a treat."

 

"Uh huh," Jack replied, side-eying the woman.

 

"It would help if all your legs weren't ridiculously long, of course," Janet finally grumbled, shooting him a flinty glare. "I feel like the family Shitzu trying to keep up with the neighbor's Great Danes."

 

"I hear those Shitzus are ferocious little furballs."

 

Janet's eyes narrowed, her gloved right hand resting for a moment on her sidearm. "You'd better believe it, sir."

 

Jack smiled and touched two fingers to the rim of his cap before he quick-timed it back to Teal'c's side. Up ahead, the fox turned to stare at him over its shoulder. A chill wind whipped the long grasses into a blur and Jack held onto his hat to keep it in place. A moment later they'd stepped from beneath leafless trees topped by a boiling grey sky onto a sunny clearing, a cloudless blue sky high overhead. Teal'c froze for a moment before continuing at Jack's side.

 

If Jack wasn't imagining it, the fox grinned at him before loping ahead.

 

SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1

 

Daniel sat at Tonane's side, warm beneath the wool blanket the sick man's daughter-in-law had laid across his shoulders. The longhouse was crowded, the slackening winter storm having driven even the hardiest warriors inside to sit beside the fire pits and share tales and songs. Five fire pits lent warmth to the structure, set down its length in a row, the roof boards overhead having been moved out of the way to allow the smoke to rise.

 

It was a different structure from the one Daniel remembered. Similar – thick wooden beams and trinium shutters fit together giving the building beauty as well as strength. This was the tribe's winter home, built to shelter the entire population during the worst weather. Daniel gazed across the family groups, the elders, identified by their distinctive hats, sitting on the higher benches in the center of the room, and the children laughing and playing, dodging in and out. It was a peaceful scene, with large extended families interconnecting across dividing lines. Voices, low and melodious or loud and raucous, bounced and echoed, filling the room to its high, slanted ceiling.

 

Beneath the serenity of the Salish, Daniel read the tension. The waiting. Anxious gazes swept in his direction, tales and songs abruptly dwindling to silence, quickly taken up again by another before the hush had drawn out too long. Daniel was reminded of the other uses of a longhouse during the winter months when the scattered families returned from hunting and fishing. At these times, at the meetings of the elders, decisions were made. Weddings were performed. Youths were given the names they would take into adulthood. Individuals were honored who had helped the tribe. Elders were raised. And deaths were celebrated.

 

Daniel hadn't spent a lot of time among the Salish. He'd made some cursory studies of Native American cultures during his post-graduate work and after they'd met the American Indians that had been transported to this world, but there just wasn't time to devote to the kind of study he'd like. Language, customs, it was all a moot point since the Salish had buried their Stargate and Daniel never thought he'd meet them again. He stared down at Tonane's face. He didn't want to make a mistake or bring any more pain to this man and his people.

 

Even sleeping, his limbs thin and wasted by his illness, Tonane smiled. His cheeks were sunken with premature age, dark shadows circling his eyes. His skin had taken on the paper-thin quality of the very old, even though Daniel understood that Tonane was about the same age as Jack. Beneath the pile of wool blankets, the man's abdomen was distended, his right hand curled atop his lower right side, the site of obvious pain. Whatever was wrong, Janet would know. Daniel only hoped she'd get here before it was too late.

 

Rayen, the oldest daughter-in-law, heavily pregnant, sat on Tonane's left, tending a pot of fragrant herbs that would make a poultice for the sick man's chest to help his shallow breathing. "The sick tend the sick," she'd murmured when Daniel had tried to insist that she rest. Her hands and face were swollen and she moved sluggishly, her bare feet so thick with edema that she seemed to drag them across the floorboards. Daniel had seen her wince with pain, one hand rising to rub at her temple. If this was a sickness that could be passed from person to person, a pregnant woman shouldn't be anywhere near Tonane.

 

Daniel frowned to himself. These people lived simply; they hunted and fished for their meals, they wore skins and handmade boots and used shells and trinium for decorations. That didn't mean that the Salish were stupid. Tonane must have been sick for a long time to get to this condition. No one was avoiding him, or insisting that he be moved to another house in fear of catching his illness. For all of their simplicity, the Salish would not have let Rayen care for her father-in-law if they thought it would harm her.

 

Rayen's husband – Tonane's son and heir – hovered close by. It might not be the Salish custom for a husband and son to care for his father or his wife, but Nesini's dark eyes didn't stray far from either. A group of men his age surrounded him, less boisterous than some other groups ranged around the longhouse. When Tonane died, it would be these men who pledged their loyalty to the son of the clan. Who became his close advisors. Beyond them, across the last fire pit on this side of the lodge, T'akaya rested among some of the other Spirits in their animal forms, her golden eyes focused on Daniel.

 

Nothing Daniel had said had changed the alien's mind. When he'd recovered from the Spirits' method of travel, he'd asked her to take him back, or to at least send another alien with a message to the SGC. To tell them that Daniel was safe and would meet his team at Tonane's side. She had stubbornly remained in wolf form, snorting and mumbling in growls and grunts as if to insist that she'd already told Dixon that back in the Briefing Room. Daniel huffed a laugh and shook his head. She'd reminded him a little of Jack.

 

At least she'd saved him a trudge through the winter forest in the freezing rain. Without his jacket or the other weather protection teams habitually packed in on an off-world mission, Daniel would have been wet to the bone and shivering in no time. But that wouldn't make it any easier for his teammates. Guilt nipped at the edges of Daniel's thoughts. He'd be the first to admit that T'akaya's touch and the sensations that she'd shared had drawn him, made him curious. He'd wanted to understand – but not at the expense of his friends' worry. Daniel had worried them enough in his pursuit of knowledge.

 

"Daniel."

 

The softly spoken word startled Daniel out of his thoughts. "Tonane. How are you feeling?"

 

Smiling, the sick man's eyes glittered with fever and excitement. "Better now that you have come. Where's Jack? And Sam?"

 

Daniel set one hand on the man's shoulder to keep him from sitting up to look around. It didn't take much effort. "They're coming. I promise. T'akaya thought I should get a faster ride."

 

"Ah," Tonane sighed. "Well, she is a wolf." He closed his eyes for a moment. "Once on a hunt, a wolf will not easily turn away," he added, grinning up at Daniel. "Like you, I think."

 

Eyebrows rising, Daniel leaned closer. "Like me?"

 

"Yes. Your spirit animal. I didn’t see it before, when I came to your world." The short string of words left Tonane panting for breath.

 

The idea of spirit guides or spirit animals was not new to Daniel – other cultures carried similar beliefs. But SG-1 had met only Xe'ls and T'akaya of the alien natives, raven and wolf, even though many more had come to the SGC in the guise of SG-11. He'd dragged Tonane through some of the least interesting rooms in the SGC to keep him safe once the aliens revealed their power, but their discussion had been limited. That the leader of the Salish would think that Daniel himself was tied to a totem or spirit animal was not as troubling as it should have been.

 

Tonane raised one frail arm to point at Daniel's chest. "Don't know why I didn't see him. Your wolf is right there. Unless-" Tonane paused to catch his breath. "Unless he's come to you since. Has he?"

 

Direct questions. Daniel did remember that about Tonane. Plain speaking. Direct, utterly honest questions.

 

"I don't know." Daniel admitted.

 

"Huh." Tonane turned towards Rayen who was following the conversation with interest. "What do you think, Rayen? Can a man come by his spirit animal without knowing?"

 

The woman's eyes widened. "Without the Journey?" She lifted one hand, palm up. "These are strangers' ways, Tonane."

 

"Have you taken the Journey, Daniel? Gone to the forest to meet your wolf?" Tonane's voice was weak, but his words were as clear and precise as Daniel remembered them.

 

"I've taken many journeys, Tonane. My friends and I have traveled through the Stargate to many worlds far from here." Daniel brushed the question aside, but, within him, a restlessness called him to account for it. He knew what the Salish meant. Deep down, he understood what they were asking.

 

"Ah. See?" Tonane pointed again. "You have. You've changed. But the changes haven't caught up with you yet." The elder closed his eyes and Daniel was sure he'd fallen back to sleep. A low chant slipped from Tonane's lips, more sounds than words, carrying the tune and the rhythm. Around the longhouse conversations quieted, children stopped their games, and faces turned to openly stare. From the young men surrounding Tonane's son, more voices picked up Tonane's melody, strengthening the sick man's song, some adding a counter-tune.

 

The animal-form Spirits rose to their feet – T'akaya's wolf, a white-tailed deer, a lumbering black bear swaying to and fro, a scraggly opossum, and a nose-twitching rabbit. From above, an eagle spread its wings, beak opening and closing with a click, the blue jay roosting nearby startled into the air to land on the bed at Tonane's feet. T'akaya moved closer, her nose nudging at Tonane's hand where it rested atop the red wool blanket. As the rest of the Salish picked up the song, Tonane opened his eyes and turned towards the wolf.

 

"My friend Daniel must complete his Journey. But you know that, don't you, T'akaya? That's why you brought him." The wolf snorted, rubbing her cheek against Tonane's hand. "Ah." The sick man turned back to Daniel. "Xe'ls is waiting. That's good." He smiled. "You should go, Daniel. Finish your Journey. T'akaya will take you."

 

"But I came to see you, Tonane," Daniel answered, his gaze flicking back and forth between the sick man and the wolf. "I don't even know why you've sent for us, or what you want us to do for you. I can't leave you like this."

 

"The others are coming," Tonane sighed. "And T'akaya says they bring a healer." The smile across Tonane's face was beautiful, like a child given an unexpected gift. "That's nice. I'll tell them where you've gone, Daniel."

 

"Jack won't –"

 

"Daniel." Tonane grabbed Daniel's hand. "It's important. Why don't you leave a message for friend Jack? Rayen will see that he gets it."

 

The woman was sitting very still, one hand on her round belly as if to protect her unborn child. The wolf form of T'akaya had pressed close against her legs to reach Tonane's side. "Yes. Yes, I will," Rayen breathed. Her other hand drifted up towards the wolf's soft coat, fingers shaking, as eager to touch as she was obviously afraid. Daniel watched as her fingertips reached the wolf's fur. T'akaya turned her great head towards the pregnant woman and rested her jaw on Rayen's knees like she was a lapdog.

 

Rayen's eyes filled with tears. She joined in her people's song, her voice pitched a few steps higher, the harmony blending with the other voices. Her right hand stroked the mound of her belly, her left scratched at the alien-wolf's ear. As Daniel watched, the woman's belly rippled, a contraction causing her voice to catch for a moment before she could catch her breath and resume her song. Flutes trilled. Skin drums began thumping. Tonane's son and some of the young men began to bang their feet on the floor, a prelude to dancing.

 

Daniel felt a touch on his shoulder and turned. One of the elders stood at his side, smiling, holding a smooth piece of bark and a stylus. He shoved them into Daniel's hands.

 

"Leave Jack a note," Daniel murmured. He felt T'akaya's golden eyes on him and began to write, quick, short words, knowing all the while that Jack was going to kill him. He glanced up at the wolf's yellow eyes. Somehow he didn't think he had much time. He hunched over the smooth bark, trying to get as much down as he –

 

As the Salish song rose, the bark and stylus fell to the stone where Daniel had been sitting. T'akaya and the other spirit-animals disappeared. Rayen reached forward, a disappointed cry interrupting the song for a moment before the Salish picked it up again. The young men spread across the space opened for them and danced.

 

Tonane smiled and closed his eyes. "Good Journey, Daniel. Good Journey."


	5. Chapter 5

"I'm going to kill him."

 

Jack closed his eyes and took a deep breath, restraining himself from crushing the smooth piece of tree bark between his hands. Maybe that wasn't the first thing that should have come out of his mouth when the very pregnant lady shoved Daniel's 'note' into his hands, but sometimes … He opened his eyes and read the few words scratched there again.

 

"Jack- I'm safe. With T'akaya on a Journey. Don't kill anyone."

 

"Sir?"

 

Carter was at his side, looking over his shoulder at Daniel's little note, her mouth tense. "Well, it's definitely from Daniel," she said. "No one else would be brave enough to leave that little information."

 

"Don't be mad, Jack." Tonane sighed as Janet unfolded the blanket to cover the sick man after her careful examination. "Daniel needed to go. He has to finish his Journey." His smile was full and free. "Xe'ls will help him."

 

"Oh, I remember Xe'ls," Jack remarked. Tall, angry alien with fire in his eyes who'd wanted to raze the entire SGC to the ground for what they'd done to Tonane and his people.

 

"Then you know Xe'ls wouldn't hurt Daniel."

 

Jack frowned. "Yeah, I don't remember that about him."

 

"Jack," Tonane drawled, letting out a long breath. "Don’t be like that."

 

Wincing at the pain in his knees, Jack crouched on the right side of Tonane's bed. "Hey. You've looked better." Much better. Jack had seen a lot of death. He'd witnessed instant, violent deaths from the hands of enemies and slow, painful deaths from disease and illness. He remembered his grandfather's wasting descent into emphysema. Kawalsky's bloody corpse held in Teal'c's strong arms. And he'd watched Daniel's slide from healthy, strong friend to bloody, gauze-covered corpse in little over a day.

 

He didn't need the look on Janet's face as she turned away to know that Tonane was beyond the point of no return.

 

"Has he been able to eat or drink anything? Is there any urine output?" the doctor asked Rayen, one slim hand reaching for the pregnant woman's pulse.

 

Rayen was awed, tongue-tied by Janet's brisk manner and the strange devices she'd brought – that much was clear. "You-rine?" she echoed.

 

Janet's smile was gentleness wrapped around a steel backbone. "Does he pass water? Pee?"

 

"Oh. Little. Very little. Tonane doesn't want to eat or drink," she continued, gazing down at the sick man with a sad smile. "We keep him warm. Give him what he wants."

 

Sallers, Frasier's corpsman, obeying some unspoken command from the doctor, wrapped the blood pressure cuff around Rayen's right arm and placed the stethoscope against her skin. He bent his head towards Frasier and muttered something that sent the two into a round of doctorese.

 

Jack glanced up at Carter, jerking his head towards the doc, sending her after the information he wanted. Carter would be a good filter for Frasier's own brand of science-speak – she'd get the facts and sort them into details Jack would understand. Teal'c had been surrounded by a group of young men as soon as they'd arrived. As usual, the frisky warrior-to-be types saw the Jaffa as the poster boy of what they wanted to be someday. And, also as usual, Teal'c was taking all the awe and curiosity as his rightful due with one satirically raised eyebrow. Three-quarters of Jack's team was present and accounted for.

He blew out a breath, taking a mental step back from the worry and anger that had him on-edge.  A certain archeologist's voice at the back of his brain reminded him that anger wasn't going to help. Jack swallowed. He'd counted on that voice inside his head for the past year, for reassurance, for warning, but mostly to offer a well-timed sarcastic comment when Jack was at the end of his rope, one way or another.

 

Daniel had been back for only a few months and Jack intended to keep him.

 

He eased back to sit on the raised stone rim around the fire pit beside Tonane's cot. "It's good to see you. But I wish you'd called earlier. You told me about some prime fishing spots the last time we saw each other."

 

Tonane's smile was easy and full, just like Jack remembered. "Fishing. I never figured you for the type to sit beside the river and wait. You and Sam and Teal'c all seemed too busy for that life."

 

"Yeah, well," Jack opened his hands, "you didn't hang around long enough for me to show you my favorite lake. Caught a few beauties there." He measured out eighteen inches. "Bass. Crappie. You name it."

 

The other man sighed. "I wish I could have seen more of your world, Jack. There was a sky out there somewhere, right? Up above all those dark, smooth tunnels?"

 

"Sky, sun, rain, wind through the trees, you name it, we got it." Jack eyed Frasier's scowl. "There's still time. We could bring you back with us. Get you some medicine. Take you out for a stroll along the lake."

 

Tonane's smile turned into something a little less joyful and little more focused. "Didn't ask you to come here for your medicine, Jack." He turned his head to aim those bright eyes towards Frasier. "Appreciate it, though. It was nice of you to bring your healer. But I'll not spend my last hours looking back over my shoulder. It's time for me to take the River to the Sea." Eyes closing, Tonane's smile turned inward, towards peace. "I know it's time. I'm kinda looking forward to it."

 

Jack dropped his head, lips pursed. "Yeah. I get that." Another bedside vigil. Another good man lost. And a whole barrel full of might-have-beens. It must be Tuesday. When he looked up, Tonane was watching him.

 

"Thank you, friend Jack."

 

That sat Jack up straight, regret making his voice a little too loud, a little too bitter. "For what?"

 

Tonane stared straight into his eyes. "For understanding. You did a good thing coming out here. And you let one of my last acts be a good thing, too. A good thing to carry away to the Sea."

 

Jack didn't bother brushing aside the 'last acts' thing. Pretending Tonane was going to get better and live a long and happy life. They were both too honest for that crap. "Tell me what we can do to help."

 

"Rayen."

 

The pregnant woman shuffled closer. Jack saw her sway, ungainly and awkward, and stood quickly to steady her. "Here. Have a seat." He helped her perch on the hard stone and then looked around for something softer.

 

"Thank you. It is the heat. And the ache in my head." She sighed, one hand rubbing circles on her belly. "This one wants to meet his grandfather. He is impatient, I think."

 

"Rayen, tell my son, Nesini, that friend Jack will speak to him of the Circle."

 

"The Circle?" Jack glanced at the group of men listening to Teal'c's rumbling voice. "The Stargate?"

 

The pregnant woman caught her breath and then nodded. "Yes. At every Sicalwas since Tonane walked the water, the young men speak. They want stories from the Spirits, tales of what lays beyond the Circle of Standing Water. Some want to step beyond, like Tonane did. Walk the rivers of other worlds under other suns."

 

Jack's eyes narrowed, imagining a couple of the young guys armed with spears and knives stepping through the Stargate onto Chulak, or Erebus, or any one of the thousand worlds still controlled by the Goa'uld. No. Just – no. "That is so not a good idea," he murmured.

 

"That is what Xe'ls says."

 

He turned back to Tonane. "Xe'ls says so and the kids still don't listen?" The Spirits, the aliens in residence on this world were powerful beings. Why didn't they simply keep the Stargate buried? Take it out of the equation?

 

"The Spirits do not decide for us, friend Jack." Tonane licked his lips, breathing hard.

 

Rayen leaned forward, grunting with effort, a wet cloth, fragrant with herbs, in her hand. Jack took it gently from her swollen fingers and pressed it to Tonane's lips. After a moment, the sick man turned his head away.

 

"You were saying Xe'ls and his buddies, they don't decide?" Jack prompted him.

 

"We are free to do as they say or not. Xe'ls is not the tribe's elder. He's a friend, as you are, Jack. A wise friend. A protector. Not a ruler. Not a god to demand we do as he says."

 

Jack nodded. "Okay." It was one good thing about the so-called Spirits. They weren't pretending anything, not any more. "So you're looking for some tough love here? You want me to tell them what's out there? Explain the dangers?" Oh, yeah. He could do that.

 

"Your words may not convince them."

 

Beside him, Rayen clucked her tongue. "They are stubborn fools. If the Spirits' words carry no weight, why would yours?"

 

Jack saw the worry behind her anger.

 

"So…" Jack considered. "Seeing is believing, right?"

 

Tonane smiled. "I always knew you were smarter than you looked, Jack."

 

"I'd better be," the colonel snorted. He straightened and looked around. "I think it's time for Xe'ls and me to have a chat."

 

"Xe'ls is helping Daniel on his Journey."

 

Mouth pressed into a tight line, Jack reined in the same kind of worry and anger he'd seen on the pregnant woman's face. Damn it. "Tonane –"

 

"Daniel is well, Jack. It's good what he's doing. Good for him and for you." Tonane raised one hand to grasp Jack's, his grip still sure, still strong. "This is the good act I was talking about. Not the saving of my son, or my tribe. The saving of your Daniel. He needs to finish his Journey."

 

Fear gripped Jack's heart as the memory of glowy tendrils and Daniel's words in the phony, glowy Gate Room pressed to the surface. He swallowed. "Finish his Journey?"

 

Tonane's eyes were soft, kind. "So that he can truly come back to you. Come back home." There was a promise in Tonane's eyes, in his voice, sounding loud and clear. "He's coming home, Jack."

 

"That's where he belongs." The words slipped out all by themselves, propelled by something deep inside. Jack held on to Tonane's hand.

 

"It is. Just like I belong here, with the tribe. Until I go to the River." Tonane's grin grew wide as he looked to Frasier's unsmiling face. "Isn't that right, Healer?"

 

Frasier and Carter had moved to Jack's side, silent and concerned. "Lieutenant Sallers is going to do a few more tests, ask some questions, while I speak with Colonel O'Neill." The Doc had pulled on her best bedside manner for the occasion. "Is that all right?"

 

"Loo-ten-ant …"

 

"Just call him Sal, Tonane," Jack advised, ignoring the corpsman's widened eyes.

 

"Sal. Good. Okay, Healer. You go tell Jack that I'm ready for my Journey to the Sea." Before the three could step away, Tonane called out. "Jack?"

 

"Yeah?" He leaned in close when the sick man's strength seemed to fail him.

 

Tonane placed a hand on Jack's cheek. "I trust you, friend Jack. I trust you to keep my tribe safe. Now, you trust me. To keep your friend safe."

 

Jack sighed. "Okay."

 

"Okay."

 

A few steps away from the sick man's cot, Frasier confirmed what Jack already knew.

 

"It looks like kidney failure, Colonel. What initially caused it I can't tell you without a trip back to the SGC. What I can say is that, unless we get him on dialysis, he won't last much more than a day or two. And," the doctor held up one small hand, "I don't think he'd make the trek back to the 'gate in his condition."

 

Jack rubbed one hand across his face. "That soon, huh?"

 

"Yes, sir."

 

"What about the Spirits, Colonel?" Sam glanced back and forth between Tonane and Frasier. "We know that they can transport someone instantaneously to the Stargate."

 

Frasier's lips were a tight line. "If he agreed to do it, we still don't know what that unknown kind of energy would do to him." She sighed. "Or, once we got him to the SGC, if we could help him beyond offering continued dialysis."

 

"So, he's right." Jack's mouth twisted up on one side, his eyes narrowing. "He's dying."

 

"I'm afraid so." Frasier had that look – the chin lifted, fiery eyed, why-the-hell-can't-I-do-anything look.

 

"Okay-" Jack began to turn back towards the sick man's cot when the doctor's tiny – but strong – hand squeezed his elbow.

 

"There's something else, Colonel."

 

"Of course there is," Jack sighed.

 

"It's the pregnant woman, Rayen. I think we may be looking at a problem there."

 

"Hell, Doc, you don't need my permission to do what you can." Jack swept a hand towards the fire pit. "Go for it."

 

"Sir," Carter began, "the woman is afraid of Janet's instruments. Maybe if you ask Tonane?"

 

"While he still has the strength to speak on the tribe's behalf," Janet added.

 

"Fine," Jack grumbled. "I apparently need to set up a meeting with good old Xe'ls, anyway. Let's go."


	6. Chapter 6

The footprint in the mud was clearly a wolf's. But not T'akaya's. She was pacing beside Daniel, head hanging down, almost herding him along the path. The sun had come out a few minutes ago, setting the snow on fire along the tree branches overhead and making the water drip down Daniel's neck. The other animals were still nearby in the forest – Daniel felt their presence the way he could sometimes sense his team ranged around him, just out of sight, watching out for him. He crossed his arms across his chest, scrunching up his shoulders against the cold.

"I suppose you couldn't just transport me to wherever we're going, right? It's important that I trudge through the mud to get there? Builds character?" Daniel asked under his breath.

The wolf snorted and let her tongue hang out.

"Very funny," he muttered in reply.

Before him, the ground rose, the mist clearing. The trees fell back on either side, away from a natural clearing where a tall, black-haired alien stood beside a fire. Xe'ls. His eyes had the same intense focus as the raven spirit-animal he favored, spearing into Daniel as if trying to immobilize his prey. He remembered Xe'ls as the leader of the aliens, the one who'd been injured by a zat blast, healed, and then demanded the SGC's destruction. He looked no less fierce now, standing in the mud beside hills of melting snow and slush.

Daniel walked towards him, the heat from the fire softening his clenched muscles.

"Daniel."

He nodded. "Xe'ls. I, ah, I don't really know what I'm doing here."

T'akaya released her wolf form to stand tall beside him. "You must complete your Journey, Daniel. Just as Tonane said."

Daniel felt the same brushing along his skin, the sensation of people standing too close, surrounding him, breathing the same air. He managed to keep himself from taking a step back, from trying to put distance between himself and whatever moved around him. It wouldn't do any good. "Tonane said that he saw a wolf within me." Daniel shook his head. "I'm afraid I didn't understand."

Xe'ls tilted his head sharply. "You lie to yourself. And to me."

Rigid. Harsh. Demanding. This was the alien Daniel remembered standing before the open wormhole, ready to leave the SGC in ruins. "About the wolf? No, you're wrong. I don't understand." Anything else was none of Xe'ls' business. 

"You have left the physical, soared on unseen winds, and clothed yourself with the brightness of stars and the darkness of space. And you have been thrust, too soon, back into this shape, this form." The alien's shape shimmered, the long silver gown flowing like water. "You do not fit. You cannot fit back within this space, this form called Daniel, while your spirit still clings to the beyond."

Daniel's breathing was too quick, his palms too sweaty. The air glowed, static lifting the hairs on his arms, on the back of his neck. 'Thrust back into this shape?' It hadn't been too soon – it had been not soon enough. If Oma and the Others had decided to send him back an hour sooner - a day - a week - Abydos might not have been destroyed. Skaara – Daniel shook his head. He didn't want to go back there, to the Ascended. Away from his friends. His choice had been made – either for him or by him, it didn't matter which. Leaving again would only hurt them all.

He'd taken a step towards the forest before he realized he'd moved.

"Daniel. Do not fear."

T'akaya was beside him, one hand raised as if to touch him, to take his arm, to keep him there. 

"I'm not –"

"You will not become one with them again. That is not your Journey."

Okay. Good. "Good," he managed, swallowing in a dry throat. "I don't - It wasn't the right place for me." He didn't fit in. He couldn't overcome the connections of his physical life, not the way Oma wanted him to. He remembered that much. "I failed."

"No." Xe'ls voice was strident, snapping off the word like a shard of ice. "You did not fail."

Daniel clenched his teeth, trapping words of denial behind them.

"Those who live among the unseen winds are not always right, Daniel. They forget the difference between spirit and flesh, the dividing line is not so plain to them as it is to us."

"You – you know them?"

Xe'ls' gills rippled. "We see them. They see us." He sounded almost disdainful. "The Journey you began with those who travel the winds, this is not the Journey you must finish. That Journey is done. You may not return to it."

Relief swept through Daniel, warm and soft, scented with sand, old books, and a military locker room. "Okay."

"It is the Journey home that you must complete." T'akaya moved away, towards the fire, towards Xe'ls. "What Tonane saw within you was the Spirit that will lead you home."

"The wolf." 

Xe'ls' gills opened with a puff of breath. "We are alien to you – to the Salish. We eliminated those you fear – the Goa'uld – millennia ago. To you, to Tonane's people, we are powerful. And yet we learned much when we took on the forms of their Spirits, the animal forms of those principles which guide their lives."

"Or, perhaps it would be better said that we re-learned much," T'akaya added.

"Yes," Xe'ls agreed. "In our power we had forgotten that we are animals. Flesh and blood. Finite. Temporal. Sensate. Mortal. Those who have shed physical life to ride the winds of heaven have forgotten these things."

T'akaya reached for Xe'ls, raising their joined hands. "We were reminded of those things as we became raven and wolf, fox and eagle, bear and elk. In watching through those other eyes as babes were born and as our Salish friends died." The alien woman lifted her empty hand towards Daniel. "These are things you must remember, Daniel."

Daniel's mind spun with scenes, fragments of memory. Skaara. A monk on Kheb. Abydos and Anubis. Teal'c and Bra'tac, dying. Jack at the end of a long tunnel. Erebus.

"Of the Salish Spirits, the wolf is a solitary creature. A hunter. One who will not easily give up his hunt. The wolf is loyal, he mates for life and makes connections with his pack that cannot be broken. This is your true self, Daniel. The wolf is your existence here, in the physical plane. He is warm fur and sunlight and shadow. He is the burst of blood on the tongue, the immediate, the now. He has no interest in the past or the future. He does not look to the stars for guidance."

"I am not a wolf, T'akaya." Daniel tried to shake off the sensations, the other-worldly feelings. "I study the past and plan for the future. My life, my calling is to travel the stars with my team, to use my knowledge of history to serve others."

"Truth," Xe'ls said. "A man is a complex creature as we have learned from our friend Tonane. But he must be, at the heart of him, a man. An animal. One who walks wholly within his physical form." The alien swept one hand down his torso. "We chose to appear to Tonane's people as their Spirits and we found our place with our friends. Our Home." The alien's head twisted like the bird form he favored. "You chose to turn your back upon your soaring, to leave the wind among the stars. Correct?"

Daniel lifted his chin. "I chose." For the first time, Daniel knew it to be true.

Xe'ls held T'akaya's hand and lifted his open one towards Daniel, mirroring T'akaya's movements. "Then it is time for you to follow your wolf Home."

Daniel's skin rippled, burning, frozen and then in a flash warm and comfortable. He shook, settling skin and bone and fur into place. Daniel found himself looking out from eyes much closer to the ground. The scents of the forest rose up like bright colors – moss, mud, leaf mould, a skunk nearby, the burrow of a rabbit. It was the warmth of a waning day, sun lowering, cold receding. Prey was near but he was not hungry, his muzzle turned away from the stunned deer blinking behind the trees towards another scent lifting on the wind. Man's scent. 

His pack.

Ears forward, Daniel opened his mouth to taste the wind. His pack was far – a night's lope. A rippling tune tilted his head to one side as he traced the melody to the sky above him. It was familiar. A teasing of the sensitive fur inside his ears, a reminder of brightness, a sweep of light behind his eyes. 

Daniel sniffed and snorted. Beside him stood another. Not pack. Not mate. Friend. On her back a black bird rode, beak opening in a coarse cry. He heard words.

"Where away, wolf-brother? Choose."

Nose working, Daniel turned blue eyes to the yellow-eyed wolf. "Pack," was his reply. He trotted off towards Home. Behind him, the raven and the wolf shimmered and disappeared.


	7. Chapter 7

Jack watched Frasier move away from the padded sleeping shelf at the back of the longhouse where she'd led the pregnant woman for evaluation. She and Carter had strung up a few blankets for privacy while Teal'c had drawn the woman's concerned husband back towards his friends in earnest conversation. Jack's teeth were clenched, the pain in his jaw pounding in time with his heartbeat. He remembered teasing his pregnant wife about her waddle, and the way her long, delicate fingers had turned into something that looked like undercooked sausages. But when the headache wouldn't go away and the doctor sent them directly to the hospital with quick commands, all the blood drained from his face, the teasing stopped, and the worrying began. Complete bedrest. IVs. And, finally, at 34 weeks they'd induced Sara and Jack had held a perfect, squalling baby boy and his wife was miraculously all better. 

It had been a nightmare and Sara had been in a hospital, surrounded by doctors and nurses and the best medical technology had to offer.

"So, what's up?" He jerked his chin in Frasier's direction.

"Based on what I can determine here, the elevated blood pressure, complaints of headaches and intermittent black spots in her vision –"

"Pre-eclampsia," Jack interrupted.

Frasier's eyebrows lifted high. "That's right, Colonel."

"How far along is she?" His dark eyes never left the woman's veiled bed.

"Not nearly far enough," Frasier sighed, hands on her hips. "Complicated by the fact that, by my estimation and the mother's guesses, she's not much more than 32 weeks along."

Jack flinched. No. That was not good. "Right," he muttered. One more complication. Another tangle in this knotty off-world problem. First, Daniel disappears, Tonane ends up beyond their help, and then the kids are all anxious to get out there and see the Goa'uld-infested universe.

"We should leave immediately, sir. The only cure for pre-eclampsia is to give birth and this culture doesn't have the resources for a successful C-section or the ability to care for a premature infant. Rayen is a little scared, but she's smart – and strong. She knows this pregnancy isn't going right. That's why they had her tending to Tonane."

"'The sick care for the sick,'" Jack quoted.

"Apparently." Frasier didn't jog Jack's elbow or shift impatiently from foot to foot. She knew what Jack was going to say, what he had to say.

"Okay. Let's get started. I'll talk to Tonane." He nodded sharply at Carter, received her unspoken acknowledgement in return.

The flutter of wings and a harsh cawing announced Xe'ls' arrival. The raven snapped its wings, hovering for a moment above Tonane's cot before the alien stepped out of thin air to stand at Jack's side. Wide black eyes flicked from face to face, assessing, as if Xe'ls was counting the tribe and measuring the impact of Jack and his team's presence. Lieutenant Sallers jumped, one hand on his sidearm at the unexpected arrival, but he settled quickly after checking on SG-1's response, earning Jack's silent approval.

Xe'ls watched closely as the corpsman finished adjusting the IV in Tonane's arm. He eyed the young men Teal'c had gathered around a nearby fire pit. A moment later the same red fox that they'd followed to the village leaned against Jack's leg, winking up at him. It trotted off towards Rayen's bed, slinking between the hanging blankets to stand between Frasier and Carter. In a blink Jack saw the lower edge of one of the alien's silver gowns peeking out beneath the blankets instead of the fox's bushy tail.

Xe'ls turned to Jack. "Tonane will die."

"Nice to see you, too," Jack replied.

The alien didn't bother to address Jack's sarcasm. "You will do as he asks? You will show the young men their foolishness?"

Arms crossed atop his weapon, Jack looked Xe'ls up and down. "We've got another problem." He pointed towards the veiled bed just as a red-headed alien flung back the blanket and hurried towards them. A few inches shorter than Xe'ls, the alien woman turned a fierce green gaze on her leader, the v-shaped slits across her nose fluttering madly.

"The woman is in distress, Xe'ls."

Frowning, Xe'ls took a step towards Rayen, Carter, and Frasier.

"Hang on there. Unless your-" Jack gestured, flailing, "-hand waving can help her, which I'm guessing it can't or you would have our friend Tonane dancing in the streets, we've got it covered. We'll get her back to the Stargate, to the SGC, and make sure she and her baby get the best care."

"De'aln can take your Healer and her companion to the Circle. Their journey there will be as a single step. It will not harm her."

Jack's eyes narrowed. "You're sure?"

The alien tipped his head to the side. "You must trust me. As I must trust you to teach Tonane's son the wisdom of burying the Circle once again."

"Look," Jack shot back, his patience having long ago reached its end, "we seem to be throwing that word 'trust' around a lot here. And yet," he made a show out of looking around, "I don't see a member of my team that I was promised would be safe. And, until I see him, any trust between us is currently on hold."

Jack would swear he could hear the raven's loud caw as Xe'ls stared into his eyes, unblinking. "You would put Rayen and her child at risk for this? Allow these children to step into torture and death?"

He wanted to say yes. To demand that they present Daniel, front and center, before Jack would do a damned thing to help Tonane's kid or his wife. He pressed his lips closed, teeth clenched, as if he could stop himself from caving. He felt Frasier's cold, stabbing eyes, Carter's glare, and Teal'c's skeptically raised eyebrow. 

"I swear to God," Jack exploded, one finger in the air, "if I feel the slightest breeze ruffle my hair I am going to shoot someone!"

Xe'ls and De'aln froze, hands raised in a gesture Jack remembered all too well.

"Jaaack."

Tonane's chuckle drew all eyes to him. The sick man smiled and shook his head. "You know, you and Xe'ls are a lot alike."

Jack's nostrils flared. He felt the alien stiffen beside him.

"You are both proud protectors. And good men." Tonane turned and crooked a finger towards his son. The young man knelt quickly at his father's side. "Nesini. Go with friend Teal'c. Take two others. They will show you the dangers of walking the waters. Healer Janet will take Rayen to Jack's world." The young man opened his mouth to argue but Tonane's honest smile stopped him. "She will bring back your son." He placed his hand against his son's cheek. "Patience, my son. I share your son's dreams. I go to the River in his place. To the Sea."

"Father." Tears filled Nesini's eyes.

"It is the way of life. The River flows onward. Let it take me and leave your son." Tonane shrugged against his bed. "It is a good trade."

"And what about DanielJackson," Teal'c asked, moving to stand at Nesini's back.

Tonane sighed and turned towards Jack. "Xe'ls?"

"Daniel is well. He makes his choice. T'akaya is with him."

"Friend Jack, will you wait here with me?" Tonane's eyes were bright, his smile mischievous. "I would have a friend at my side while I take my first step upon the River."

"And you know I'm not going anywhere until Daniel gets back from his 'Journeying.'" Jack couldn't stop himself from using the air quotes.

Tonane's answering grin slid off his face as he met the intensity behind Jack's intentional lightness. "You will not leave him behind."

"I won't." Jack's hand tightened around his weapon. "Trust me on that."

Xe'ls seemed to flutter between his human-like form and the raven for a moment. "That is well."

Jack jerked his chin towards Teal'c as Tonane's son knelt down next to his father's bed to say good-bye.

Carter and Teal'c on either side, Jack scrubbed and hand through his hair.

"Sir. You can't really be thinking of taking these – these kids off-world into a dangerous situation. Just to make a point." Carter was frowning as she shrugged back into her vest and clipped her weapon in place.

"We must prove to them that the Goa'uld threat is dangerous. That one meeting with an armed Jaffa will end their curiosity." Teal'c let his gaze travel across the family groups, the laughing children, the quiet contentment of the Salish people. "That their people would die if one Jaffa saw the coordinates of their Stargate."

"I agree, Teal'c," Carter began, "but we can't put an SG team at risk traveling to a Goa'uld controlled world just to prove a point."

Teal'c acknowledged the major's words with a bow of his head.

"Maybe we could use the Alpha site? Get the Jaffa and Tok'ra there to show the boys their weapons? To play-act a firefight?" Carter huffed. "I'm thinking it wouldn't take much convincing to get them to point weapons at each other, Intar or otherwise."

Jack snorted. That situation was going to blow up in their faces again. Soon. "Play-acting hating each other wouldn't be much of a … stretch …" Something at the back of Jack's brain was trying to get his attention. Oh. Right. His eyebrows rose. "Huh. That might work," he murmured.

"Should I contact dad and Selmak?" Carter replied.

"What?" Jack jerked his attention back to his second in command. "No, that's not a good idea. The Tok'ra and Jaffa might need to blow off steam, but what are we gonna do if some of that steam leads to a real fight?"

"Which is quite likely knowing their history," Teal'c added, deadpan.

"You have another idea, sir?" Carter cocked her head.

"Actually, I do. I think it's time I have a little chat with good old Lieutenant Tyler." Jack rocked up and down on his toes. "That guy owes me. Big time." 

Teal'c's scowl brightened into a knowing look. "Indeed. A wise suggestion, O'Neill."

"Don't sound so shocked, T," Jack muttered.

Carter was way ahead of them. As usual. "Do you think he'll go for it? He and his people had been in hiding for so long. Before our automatic re-dial of P7S-441 and his appearance on the MALP camera, we had no idea if we'd ever be in contact with him again."

"I had my suspicions," Jack remarked. The Reole had been willing to help before. They'd given samples of their hallucinogenic chemicals to the Tok'ra, to help them concoct that stupid plan for Daniel to infiltrate the System Lords' summit way back when. It wasn't their fault that the Tok'ra couldn't plan their way out of a wet paper bag. "Let's give it a try. Tyler could give the kids a big damned show without any angsty history lessons. We'll keep the Alpha site on the backburner as plan B." He turned. "Teal'c, you and Carter can handle that, right?"

"We can, O'Neill. I have enjoyed my travels to the Reole world and my conversations with Kaiael. He is most forthright for a member of a species that survives on its ability to disguise itself."

"Yeah, I'm just going to keep calling him Tyler." Jack took a deep breath, reminding himself that Carter and Teal'c would be safe to send out on their own. They were going back to the SGC, back to Hammond and proper back-up and then either to a peaceful ally's home-world or to the Alpha site. He gave them a good once-over. Safe. Strong. "Okay, campers," he clapped his hands together, "let's get this show on the road."

"Sir?"

The question in that one word brought Jack up short. "Carter?"

"You'll make sure Daniel - I mean –" her blue eyes were wide and watery. "You'll bring him back."

"No question about it," Jack replied, quiet and sure. "Count on it. He's not going glowy on us this time."

"That would be well, O'Neill." Teal'c's passionate intensity was packed down into those few words.

Carter snuffled. "Indeed," she intoned, trying a grin.

Sallers and Frasier had Tonane's daughter standing up, her husband at her side, supporting her with one strong arm wrapped around her back. Nesini nodded at Jack's unspoken question, gesturing towards the two young men standing tall but watching them out of apprehensive eyes. Jack ushered Carter and Teal'c towards the group while he made his way back to Tonane's side. To Xe'ls.

"Looks like we have a go."

The alien stared. "Very well." Without another word he and the red-haired De'aln clapped their hands together and Jack was alone beside Tonane's cot.

"Don't you wish to speak with your people, Jack?" The Salish leader's eyelids fell to half-mast.

"Nah," Jack settled in the padded chair Rayen had left behind. "My people are good. They'll take care of Rayen and let me know."

Tonane sighed. "We both are blessed with good people."

Jack picked at the seam in his trousers. "Uh huh." He narrowed his eyes, hoping Hammond wouldn't keep Carter and Teal'c in the debriefing too long. That the Reole would play along. That Frasier would get Rayen to the infirmary before anything awful happened. He leaned forward, blowing out a breath, and put his elbows on his knees. "So, Tonane …"

The sick man chuckled. "Go, Jack. Go find Daniel."

Jack was almost embarrassed by how fast he shot to his feet. Almost. "I suck at waiting," he admitted.

"I see that," Tonane smiled. "Go. The Spirits will help you."

"Yeah, I'm still not sure about that Xe'ls guy."

"Then it's good that I am." He closed his eyes. "Go. I don't think I'll be going to the River before you get back."

One foot headed towards the door, Jack hesitated. "You're sure?"

"I'm sure. A soul for a soul. My grandson isn't quite ready yet."

Huh. Jack watched until Tonane slept. He tugged the blanket up a little further. A slim woman appeared at his shoulder, smiling shyly, and settled into the padded chair. "Okay. Good." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "I'll just …"

Outside the longhouse, Xe'ls was waiting.

"That was fast."

"Your people have returned through the Circle." The baleful black eyes held a trace of concern.

"Yeah?" Jack pursed his lips. "Everything okay?"

Xe'ls cocked his head, birdlike. "Your General Hammond was not pleased initially. He has a few words that I am to say to you."

"Oy." Jacked braced himself.

"He wishes to speak to you in six of your hours." Xe'ls looked him up and down. "I will return you to the Circle in that time."

"That's it?" Jack wondered when the other shoe was going to drop.

"After a few messages given and received by your comrades, he instructed me to tell you to 'bring our boy home.' And 'Godspeed.'"

"Yeah." Jack ducked his head, the tight knot in his gut unraveling a little bit.


	8. Chapter 8

Dusk faded to darkness and the world around the wolf sharpened. The edges of leaves and twigs and pools were outlined in moonlight, glowing lines of white fire where ice and snow still clung. Small movements were catalogued – insects, small prey, melting snow, wind. No threats. Nothing distracted him from his steady pace. Ears twitching side to side, the wolf lowered his head and pressed on.

Scent led him. Sometimes teasing, barely there, other times powerful, startling a flood of images into life behind his eyes. Images of human faces. Blond hair. Dark skin. Hooded eyes. Images of pack. 

Dust. Sweat. Bright perfume. Clean stones. Old paper. Acrid gunpowder. The crisp taste of electricity on the air. The scents rippled across his tongue, drawing him on. His pack was waiting for him. 

In the wolf's mind he saw his pack leader leaving scent trails from his hands and feet as he paced back and forth, touching the world around him. The leader's scents were warm hops, wool, the cool copper of his weapons. Musty wood. Clean ice. Deep woods touched by frost. Daniel yip-barked, tongue lolling. Tomato sauce and melted cheese. And impatience.

A brighter scent came behind him. Younger. Less restless. She smelled of spring. Awakening land, green and lush. Exhaust. Clean metal. Sweet berries and earthy nuts. In his mind, she showed her teeth, head lowered to threaten the pack's enemies, the pale fur around her neck ruffled.

Dark and deep, the third stood just beyond sight. Waiting. His scent was thick and full, spiced with years. The bitter aroma of burnt wicks clung to him, the musk of effort, the dead smell of gold, and the ripe richness of strength. Daniel dipped his head, acknowledging the scent of loss. And regret.

There were others. Other pack back beyond the edges. Those that stayed away from the center, who came to his pack, touched it and were accepted, were protected and fed by the pack's strength but barely brushed its tight connections to each other.

Nose to the forest floor, Daniel halted, the wolf following off his left haunch swinging her head towards him. The wind changed, bringing other scents. Open spaces. Ancient tombs. Standing between Daniel and his pack, there was a barrier. Others. Traps set against his progress. He growled, low and deadly, feet splayed against any tug, any attempt to distract him from his goal. 

T'akaya nudged his ribs. "Go around," she suggested with a flip of her ears.

"Through," Daniel growled, lifting his lip to show his teeth. He would not make his pack wait any longer for him or for his decision. He slunk forward, ears swiveling to take in any sound, any vibration of the air due to movement or breath. He would not be surprised again, not now that his wolf was ascendant. Not while all his senses were high.

Tall piles of rocks emerged from the darkness. Arches. Walls. Yes. His wolf caught the memories from his human brain and painted in a trail through the hills and scant brush. His way home was on the other side of the village. Well. He showed his teeth to the darkness, daring it to slow him down.

The sunlight held no warmth. The men and women had no scent. No reality. Their robes had no weight; their speech and movements did not bother the fine hairs inside Daniel's ears. He kept straight to his path, led by the promise of home beyond these distractions. The wraiths moved out of his path, turning to watch as he and the other trotted through their wanderings. When one stayed before them, grumbling and demanding attention, Daniel huffed and moved through the man's image, disrupting it into swirls of color before it took shape again behind him.

The steps down into the village felt like dirt beneath his paws, dirt and dead leaves and the cold of lingering snow, not the ancient chiseled rock his eyes observed. The scene at the bottom of the stairs stopped the wolf, a whine sounding unbidden from his throat. The wind shifted and the figures before him took on the smell of life, colorful and real, the air trembling around them. Voices. Sounds. Booted feet against stone, metal rubbing against the heavy mesh of vests. 

Eyes narrowed, the wolf swung his head back and forth, questing with sight/hearing/smell/taste to find the truth of the world springing up around him. His pack stood before him – but not his pack. The scents were cloudy, murky, stale. He startled to stillness as the image of his human self stalked past the others, brushing away the female's touch to disappear within the tent.

As the others of his pack moved close together, he sat and stared at the wolf beside him.

"Why are we here? This is the past. Actions and choices here were already made." He wrinkled his nose and shook his head as if he smelled something bad.

T'akaya circled him, head and tail low, submissive. "Doubt. We are here because of your doubt. Doubt about your return from the stars. Your place. The gifts and talents you bring to the pack. Here is the moment of doubt and action. Here you must resolve to put doubt aside." Her eyes were empty of anger or impatience or empathy. "To embrace life and death, to accept the limitations – and welcome the advantages - of the physical and be satisfied."

"I did that. I chose." Here. On Vis Uban. Huddled within blue robes and a name not his own, he had chosen.

"You did not," T'akaya insisted, "or this path would not be here. You have followed this trail back along your lifeline to this point, the point of uncertainty. Before your pack came for you, before you heard the name that was yours you embraced this other, this Arrom, who had no pack. He clings to you still, lingering between two worlds and drawn to each."

Daniel turned his ears back and forth, watching the shadows within the tent, how, one by one, his pack entered, spoke, and left again, their faces drawn, their scents twisted. "That is no way to serve the pack."

"No," the other agreed, mouth open in a wolf's smile.

The pack leader stood before him, head turned to watch the tent's empty doorway. He had entered the tent first. Touched the things Arrom had taken to himself – candle, table, stool. Things that bore no scent, no life, no connection to pack. He had spoken words to the pack-less man, but Arrom wouldn't hear. Meaningless words to the one who had sailed on the wind between the stars and felt the loss of their brightness, the ache of a spirit caught up once again within flesh.

Lost, Arrom would choose to walk back through the Circle with his pack, still searching for his home. Still mourning the power and freedom that he believed he'd had. Daniel scented the human's doubt, the way he was torn between two pathways, two beings. Physical and ethereal. Wolf and light. 

Daniel let out a stiff bark and the scene slowed, the movements of the humans slackening to nothing. The pack leader was frozen as he stared over his shoulder into the tent, the female at his side, the dark one standing guard over them as always. He whined at the mixture of joy and fear they gave off. That was his fault. 

Before him, T'akaya dropped to the dirt, settled on her side, and raised her muzzle to touch his chest. "There is no guilt to be settled here. No anger at the packless one's confusion. Leave off blame. The call of the stars is loud to one who has no pack to stand at his shoulder."

Daniel lowered his head, accepting the other wolf's words. Yes. The call of the stars had become all that the human Daniel could hear, all that he listened for a long time before this moment. He nuzzled the warm fur of her neck, breathed in the scent of blood beating beneath her skin, and puff of hot air from her panting. He met the other wolf's eyes. "I know what to do."

She twisted to lay on her belly, her head resting on her front feet. "Good. I will wait."

He trotted past the frozen pack, the moment of time held fast here in his memory, and into the tent to stand before his human self.

SG1SG1SG1SG1

Hammond frowned down at the folders in front of him. Teal'c and Major Carter had made their report, and had made short work of contacting both their allies at the Alpha Site as well as the Reole. The plan to educate the young men of Tonane's world via an elaborate illusion set up by Kaiael and his people was pure O'Neill. Hammond's lips curled into a smirk and he lowered his head so that neither of the members of SG-1 could see his reaction. Only Jack O'Neill would come up with a scenario like this one – one where none of the 'children' could possibly get hurt, but the message would be indisputable. And George was sure that Teal'c would insist on plenty of blood and destruction to insure that Nesini and the others would take back a tale of horrifying aliens intent on murder and enslavement that would curl all the Salish's hair. 

Considering the losses and injuries this command had borne and the entire worlds they'd seen lost or destroyed by the Goa'uld, populations decimated and enslaved, a little play-acting to keep those young men and their world safe was a genius idea – not to mention a wise use of resources.

"It sounds like you've worked out the logistics and the breadth of the illusion that the Reole people are willing to perform on behalf of Tonane's son and his friends." Hammond nodded at Carter and Teal'c, seated to his left.

Teal'c's deep rumbling voice was confident. "Kaiael has agreed to our requests. He and his people are anxious to show others the danger of the Goa'uld, and to save them from their own ignorance. We have but to dial the Stargate again to P7S-441. He and some few of his brothers await our arrival."

Sam leaned forward. "He and the other Reole will use very little of the drug they produce, sir. Just enough so that Nesini and his friends are completely taken in by the illusion. The dose they use on Teal'c and me will be much lighter, just so that we can get a glimpse of what Tonane's boys see and react appropriately."

Hammond grunted. "And you're leaving the details up to Kaia- to Tyler and his people?"

Sam tapped the folder lying open the table in front of her. "We've given him access to the video through the MALP. Recordings from the Tok'ra of Osiris' attack on Revanna. Ships. Laser cannons. Hundreds of Jaffa. Tyler will fill in the rest." Sam flashed a smile. "The Reole have a very advanced imagination, sir. I'm sure that's what allows them to utilize their chemical effectively."

Teal'c tilted his head. "Nesini informs me that the Salish people spend many hours during the cold months in tale-telling. This 'Sicalwas,'" the foreign word came easily to the Jaffa's tongue, "is vital to their education and in passing the history of their people down the generations." Eyes half-lidded, his smile was feral. "Kaiael has promised a story for the ages."

"Very well." Relief loosened some of Hammond's muscles that had been strained and aching for the past few hours. "And we are sure that the Reole chemical will have no adverse effects on Nesini and his friends?"

"I sent the sample down to Janet –"

" – and I have the results of the tests right here, sir."

Janet hurried into the briefing room, pausing for Hammond's gesture before she slid into the seat on his right hand. She smoothed her white coat and smiled tightly across the table. "Nesini and his friends are human, genetically typical of the Coastal Salish still living in upper Washington state and Canada. The effects of the chemical will be nearly identical to how SG-1 was effected three years ago."

Sam nodded. "I've contacted the Alpha Site, sir. The Tok'ra will have the antidote to the Reole chemical ready for SG-1 and the Salish when we 'gate back from P7S-441. It should be a short wait there until we can all return safely to the SGC."

Two on the Salish world. Two travelling between the Reole world and the Alpha Site. Thin. The team was spread thin. Vulnerable. Exposed. Hammond cocked his head at his CMO. Time to do a little proactive damage control. "Doctor Frasier, are you requesting that you wait at the Alpha Site to determine just how quickly this chemical is dissipated by the Tok'ra antidote?" Hammond hoped the shadows behind his eyes, the doubt and the desperation eating at him were not slapped visibly across his face.

"I hesitate to leave Rayen at the moment, sir." The doctor lifted a hand to forestall any questions. "She's doing well. We've settled her into one of the isolation rooms, just to keep from exposing her to any and all of the usual SGC traffic through the infirmary. The OB/GYN from the academy hospital, Doctor Lea Crozer, arrived a few hours ago and has done an assessment. She agrees that we're looking at pre-eclampsia, and has prescribed bedrest and medication. An ultrasound has determined that the baby is farther along that I initially guessed, so that's the good news." She pursed her lips. "Doctor Crozer feels that the C-section could be done at the end of the week – assuming that Rayen's condition does not change before then."

"Which is why you're torn about shipping out to the Alpha Site."

Frasier sighed. "Yes, sir. I'd like to be here as one of the few faces Rayen is at least a little bit familiar with. Especially since her husband will be going through the Stargate." She straightened her shoulders. "I have every confidence in Doctor Simpson at the Alpha Site. He can easily oversee the administration of the Tok'ra antidote. Especially if Jacob is there to assist."

Hammond lowered his gaze to the table. The red folder he'd buried beneath the mission reports from the Salish world and SG-1's initial meeting with the Reole seemed to glow, threatening, from beneath the pile. The current situation was difficult enough without the grenade he was about to throw out on the table. He straightened his shoulders. He had only two options here. The first, to let these two members of SG-1 prepare for and execute this mission with clear minds, keeping them in the dark about the threat looming over their teammate. His only other option was to announce the latest orders issued from Washington and let Carter and Teal'c respond before their off-world mission, possibly throwing out the entire timetable.

Hammond raised his head, letting his gaze rest on each one of these loyal, deeply dedicated individuals he was fortunate to have in his command. By his silence they knew something was wrong, something beyond the two empty chairs sitting around this table that should be filled with their comrades. If he was to do his duty to them, to all of them, there really was only one choice.

"General?" 

"Major Carter, Teal'c." He turned. "Doctor Frasier. I am fully prepared to approve these mission parameters. You and your party can leave here at 16:00, after SG-14's scheduled check-in." Hammond locked eyes with his CMO. "Doctor Frasier, we'll speak further in a moment."

"Sorry, sir, but it sounds like there's a 'but' coming." Frasier laced her fingers together on the table.

"Yes." Hammond pulled the thin red folder from the bottom of the stack in front of him. "This is something that I've already discussed with Doctor Jackson, something that we both knew was coming."

The tension in the briefing room was like a sudden charge of static electricity on Hammond's skin, lifting every hair. He reached for the face of a calm, controlled commander, bland and unaffected. It wouldn't quite settle across his features. "SG-1's reports on the Erebus mission to rescue Bra'tac and R'yac have come under the scrutiny of the Joint Chiefs. They are in the process of sending a team to 'evaluate' Doctor Jackson's Ascended memories. The president understands that he is currently off-world, and expects, upon his return, for him to be TDA on base, assigned to this investigative team for the duration of their inquiry."

Before anyone at the table could speak, Hammond continued. "When Colonel O'Neill and Doctor Jackson return from the Salish world, I will have no choice but to obey my orders. That could be any moment. And Doctor," he turned towards Frasier, "I believe it would be in our best interests for you to be available to assist."

"They're sending doctors? To examine Daniel?" Frasier leaned across the table. "How? Psychologically? Neurologically?"

The sound that issued from Teal'c was nearly a growl. "Do they intend to submit DanielJackson to testing? Of what type?"

"People," Hammond began, "they are sending a psychiatrist, a neurologist, and a couple of agents," he instilled that word with all of the disdain he could, "who are, according to my intel, experts at interrogation. At getting answers. Answers buried so deep by training – or trauma – that their subjects might not even be aware of them." He swallowed bitter rage. "Their justification is that they are not about to allow a 'threat' like Doctor Jackson, someone with a continued connection to beings who are more advanced than we can imagine to insist that he does not remember his Ascension. Not after the mission to Erebus, when he clearly did." His smile was sharp enough to draw blood. "They want answers. And they intend to get them."

"Oh my God," Carter breathed.

Frasier's blood seemed to drain from her face. "Sir. That doesn't sound like an investigation. It sounds like torture."

Teal'c stood, his chair slamming backwards against the wall. "I will not permit this."

Hammond didn't raise a hand to stop the furious Jaffa. "I think you'll find that the rest of us agree with you, Teal'c. But –"

"- but unless we want to resign our commissions, resign from the military altogether, we have to obey the orders of the president," Carter continued. She rose and put a hand on Teal'c's arm. "And if we resign, who will be here to protect Daniel then?"

"There will be no torture of DanielJackson." Teal'c did not soften, he did not shrink away from Major Carter's warning. "I will go to the Salish world and offer him my allegiance, to go where he will or to stay among the Spirits there after their Stargate is buried." His dark eyes blazed. "I have no loyalty to those who break warrior bonds with a man such as him." He stared down at his teammate and slowly pulled his arm from her loose hold. "Do as you will, MajorCarter, but I will go. Now."

"Hang on a minute, Teal'c –" Hammond's gut told him he had seconds to convince the Jaffa to hear him out before the man stalked down to the Control Room and took matters into his own hands. He put both hands on the table and pushed to his feet, careful not to stand too close to the angry man. "Please. Just listen for one minute." Hammond lifted his chin, staring the Jaffa straight in the eye. "I think my actions on behalf of SG-1 and Doctor Jackson should at least earn me that much time."

The muscle in Teal'c's jaw jumped and jittered but the proud head bowed a fraction of an inch.

Hammond pitched his voice low and didn't bother to hide his intense anger and the profound urgency of his message. "I want you and Major Carter to proceed with your mission to the Reole homeworld. I will send a message to Colonel O'Neill on PXY-887 to advise him of the situation." Hammond gestured, drawing Frasier to his side. "Doctor Frasier and I will be here to meet the Joint Chief's team. Trust us, please, to act in the very best interest of Doctor Jackson and SG-1. By the time you return to the Alpha Site, I expect to have a plan in place."

"'A plan,'" Teal'c repeated.

"Yes, Teal'c," Hammond replied. Earnest. Resolute. "I'm going to need both you and Major Carter to ensure its success – to keep Doctor Jackson from this kind of scrutiny ever again." He turned to include the major in the discussion. Her bright gaze threatened to pierce Hammond's stern shell.

"I trust you, sir," she murmured, "but that's got to be some plan."

"Indeed," Teal'c intoned, clearly not convinced.

The general took it for reluctant acceptance. "I'm going to need your word, Teal'c. That you'll follow my lead."

The Jaffa's pause was too long to be reassuring. Finally, Teal'c unlocked his jaw. "I give it."

Hammond's relief was short-lived as Teal'c continued.

"Until it is clear to me that this plan has failed and DanielJackson is at risk from those who have vowed to protect him."

"Fair enough." The general took a step back, taking Frasier by the elbow to keep her in place at his side. "You have two hours to gear up and get Nesini and his friends ready to proceed."

Teal'c marched out without another word, leaving Major Carter standing frozen between the briefing room table and the window that looked down on the Stargate. Her gaze followed her teammate's rigid back as he strode away, deliberate and grim.

"Major."

"Sir." She blinked, facing him.

"We've been through worse, Major. We'll get through this, too."

Her lips were white, her hands fisted at her sides. "Sir, I'm not torn between my duty to the Air Force and my duty to my friend. I don't want you to misunderstand what I said to Teal'c."

Hammond almost laughed. "I don't, Sam." No, he understood her, and, hopefully, so would Teal'c as soon as the two of them had a chance to talk. "There is no question in my mind that we fully understand each other."

"Amen," Frasier said quietly, fierce and unsmiling.

"Dismissed," Hammond reminded Carter with a nod. "Leave this in my hands, Major."

"In our hands," Frasier added.

"Yes, sir. Janet." Major Carter snapped her spine into a taut line before marching away.

Hammond took a deep breath, drawing on all of the inner resources he had. "Doctor Frasier. Why don't you introduce me to your newest patient? I'd like to be able to give Colonel O'Neill some good news when I dial the Stargate."

The CMO stared, pursing her lips as her agile mind set everything she'd heard in the past few minutes into place. "Uh huh." She smiled. "Right this way, sir."


	9. Chapter 9

The wolf sat before the man. The man stared, eyes wide for a moment before he straightened on his stool, the hands that had been fidgeting with a candle falling to his lap. The wolf tilted his head, mouth closed, ears pricked forward. The man had little scent, little substance. Curled within the robes of a pack not his own, he hid from the senses of others, and from his own connections with the physical world. 

Nothing stopped the man from walking among the nomads who had welcomed him, sharing meat, sitting beside the fire to feel its warmth. He could have smelled the charred flesh of their meals, tasted the fragrant herbs of their tea, and listened as the wood cracked and spat, watching the sparks fly into the darkness. The people here would have gladly shared words, the touch of hands, and the life that had been offered to him. Nothing stopped him except himself.

This man spent his days walking a barren world beneath a low, grey sky and then returned to his lonely tent to eat and drink what had been left for him. He stayed within the dimness of the tent, he hesitated to light candles, or to feel the softness of the borrowed robes. He shrank from those who would reach out and share his burdens. He reveled in his abandonment.

The wolf slunk forward, belly against the floor, to touch his cold nose to the man's bare ankle. He swept the fur of his cheek against skin. Barked once. And then nipped hard enough to draw blood.

The man leaped away. "Hey!"

Sitting up, the wolf closed his eyes and then opened them slowly. "You are alive."

"Of course I'm alive." The man snatched at the hem of his robe to see the small holes in his skin leaking a few drops of blood.

"You see. You hear. You feel. You speak." The wolf let his mouth fall open. "You bleed."

"I could have told you that – you didn't need to bite me," the man complained, settling back on his stool.

"I'm not the one needing a reminder."

The man frowned, his gaze far off, his hands fumbling for the scarf around his neck. "It's been a long time. There is no touch, no taste or scent among the stars." Sharp blue eyes fixed on the wolf. "It takes some getting used to."

"But you aren't trying."  
"I- " the man's frown deepened. "I am. Aren't I?"

"No," the wolf barked.

The man flinched.

"This is not Home," the wolf stated. "Why do you linger?"

"This is all I know," the man replied. "This tent. These people –"

"A lie. You have already begun to remember. You sense pack. It becomes clearer with every word and gesture."

The man's gaze slid away again. "Maybe I have. Maybe I don't like what I see."

The wolf chuffed. "That's not the reason you linger. We have never been blind to our faults. Our limitations. We have moved on, past the pain and the failure more than once."

A deep breath and the man caught the wolf's eye again. "And them?" He jerked his chin towards the tent's opening and the people waiting out there. "Have they moved on?"

"They are pack. Pack is not perfect, but it remembers. Pack forgives. Pack will never stop seeking one who is lost."

The man's breathing quickened.

"You are afraid," the wolf growled.

Eyes closed, the man shook his head. "Not – not of them." He sighed. "I don't fit," he finally said as if admitting a terrible fault. Hand splayed against his chest, his voice softened. "Skin and bone and blood – I wore it for thirty-some years. But my spirit doesn't fit inside this shell. Not anymore."

The wolf lowered himself to lay on the ground. Muzzle on his front paws, he blinked up at the man. The child. The lost pup. Stranded, abandoned far from home. Even those who had left him here, who had stolen his identity and stripped him of every comfort and memory would have been welcomed back by this sorrowful pup with open arms. With gratitude. No wonder this man could not let go of the stars.

"The Others have much to answer for," the wolf murmured. "They put you here, in this place. Sent you back from the stars to land here." He whimpered. "Some stars burn too bright."

The man kept his eyes closed, hands in tight fists against his chest.

"We gave them all, surrendered to them as pack."

"I didn't," the man denied, whispering.

The wolf crept closer, anxious to put the pup at ease. "We did not fail these Others. Our ties to life, to our pack, were too strong for them to break." He blinked slowly. "A wolf mates for life."

Head down, the man shivered as the wolf leaned his warmth against his ankles. "They have ridden the waters of the stars for far too long to remember, to feel the connections, the binding of souls and spirits that come with being pack. It was not our weakness that failed the others. It was they who failed us."

The man breathed out dread and desperation. "I still feel them watching. As if this is just another test, another lesson to learn." He shook his head, tears bright against his cheek. "I feel the connection."

"And," the wolf continued, "you believe that if you let go, if you embrace your life again, seek your pack, that will be your ultimate failure. If you turn from them, from those who sail among the stars, the memories of those days will be lost to you forever."

"Yes." Blue eyes sparkled with fierce emotion. "Yes. I'll be only human. Flawed, weak, making mistakes and hurting those around me – just like before."

"Just like Jack and Sam and Teal'c. Just like every member of our pack."

The man was silent.

"There is no 'only' human." The wolf leaned more of his weight against the man's leg. "There is Human or Ascended. Mortal or ethereal. Flesh and bone and blood or weightlessness and stardust. One that is loyal to pack or one who seeks enlightenment only for himself. That is your choice." The wolf scrambled to his feet, standing face to face with the seated man. "Brush of skin, sound of laughter, warmth of kin. Living one moment after another while shadows lengthen under the sun. Sharp scent, grit of sand, crunch of leaves, bare limbs, ice gathering on familiar ponds. Life. Living."

The man raised his hands. "Blood. Pain. Guilt. Defeat. Loss. Grief. Sickness and old age and betrayal –"

"Yes," the wolf yipped. "All of that. It's what being 'only' human means. Being pack."

Lifting his head, the man stared up into the unseen sky. "I was light. Thought. Power."

"Alone," the wolf reminded him. "You cannot be a member of two packs or look over your shoulder at what is lost while you pace into the future." He trotted away, waiting beyond the table. "We have done enough of that, haven't we?"

The man rose and rounded the table to stand beside him. "We have," he agreed.

"While we rode the winds of heaven, we could not stop from looking backwards. Towards Home."

"We couldn't." 

"That is no way to live."

A laugh rose up in the man's throat. "You're right." His smile was crooked. "It's a lot to give up, you know. The knowledge. The connection to a higher plane. The power."

The wolf nudged the man's leg, herding him towards the door. "Is it?" He looked outside at the man's pack waiting anxiously for their brother. "Now the choice is yours. It must be made. Finally. Fully. Before you step outside, before you are accepted by your pack. Don't carry the questions – the regret - with you. Leave them here. Whether or not you chose to return or Others made that decision for you - It's time to make the choice. Ours is the only choice that matters."

They stood together in the entryway, looking out on their pack. Three people - impatient, excited, worrying. Afraid to be hopeful. Amazed at the gift they had never looked for.

The man seemed to shake himself like a wolf, settling his spirit within his skin. "We choose," he whispered. He lifted a bag from a hook beside the doorway and looked down at the wolf. "Will I see you again? I might need a reminder from time to time. You're pretty smart for a wolf."

Wolf Daniel bared his teeth. "I'll be there when you need me."

"Ready to bite me in the ass if I forget my choice? If I forget to look ahead instead of behind?"

The twitch of the wolf's ears was enough of an answer. 

The wolf moved closer, accepting the grip of the man's hand on the fur around his neck. "What is your choice, man?"

Without hesitation, Daniel answered. "Home. Pack. Humanity."

The thread that had tethered the man's soul to the heavens thinned to a single point of light. A warmth. A touch on his spirit. A goodbye. Wolf and man were swept together in a sudden windstorm of stars and leaves and sand, breathing and heartbeats, familiar voices and the scent of books and metal and coffee.

Daniel stood in a forest clearing dressed in jeans and a sweater, his mind clearer than it had been in a long time. Across the glade, Jack was just emerging from between the trees, the scowl on his face lightening into a grin.

"Hey."

Daniel felt the wolf within him scenting the air. Pack. Home. He smiled. "Hey, yourself."

Jack tilted his head, looking Daniel up and down, assessing him like he'd done a hundred times before. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "You ready to head back?"

"More than ready," Daniel answered. He walked to his friend's side. "Sorry to worry you. It – ah – it wasn't my idea."

"Oh, if I had a nickel," Jack replied.

"But –" Daniel reached out to snag Jack's elbow. "But it was necessary. I think." He shrugged. "It helped."

"Helped what?" Jack's dark gaze compelled him to answer

"It helped me reconnect. Figure out what I was missing."

Jack still seemed a little twitchy. Uncertain. "What were you missing, Daniel?"

Sighing, Daniel shoved his cold hands into his pockets. "Perspective."

"Ah. And the reconnection? With whom were you reconnecting, if I might ask?"

Daniel walked on, nudging Jack with his shoulder. "My pack," he answered.

Jack nudged back, harder. "Not glowy squid people?"

"Nope." Daniel shot him an embarrassed grin. He wouldn't be looking over his shoulder again. Peering up through the stars for a faint hint of light. Listening for the wrong voices. "Did I ever tell you how grateful I am that you and Sam and Teal'c showed up on Vis Uban?"

A grunt. A tilt of the head. Jack's expression was bland. "Not in so many words."

"Well, I am. And I'm happy."

"Happy …" Jack drawled.

"To be 'only' human," Daniel filled in.

"Is that what you are?" Jack huffed. "Not so sure about that."

"I am." Daniel met Jack's eyes when he turned. "I made a choice. A little late, but," he shrugged. 

"Better late than never. Definitely better." Jack nodded and then clapped his gloved hands together. "So I guess I'm going to have to admit to Xe'ls that he was right."

A trill of music drifted down through the leaves on the trees above his head. Lifting his gaze to the large black bird perched there, Daniel snorted. "I think you already have."


	10. Chapter 10

The 'Gate Room was crowded – team leaders and their SIC's couldn't seem to stay away. Hammond hadn't put out any announcements about the visitors from Washington – about their purpose or the fact that they were targeting Daniel Jackson in particular – but that hadn't stopped the SGC water cooler from spreading the news. There hadn't been anything overt, no actionable conduct by Hammond's officers. No, his people were good. They'd settled for furious silence, intimidating hovering, and pointedly polite responses to any questions tossed in their direction. 

Not one of them admitted to hearing anything 'odd' about Doctor Jackson or SG-1, even including the archaeologist's search of the SGC database for a nagging memory from his time Ascended. Harriman had that blank-faced look locked down, inviting the Washington team to sift through each and every line of code via the inches-thick print-outs he'd so helpfully made. So that they wouldn't tie up the computers and interfere with 'gate operation. Of course.

The civilian doctor on the team had seemed bemused by the entire experience. Dr. Unanada had disengaged himself neatly from the two plain-clothed agents with obviously redacted IDs and bearing the questionable names of Chris Smith and Vin Jones. The large, dark-skinned doctor had shaken Hammond's hand warmly, greeted Dr. Frasier with a wide smile, and disappeared into the infirmary and her office without looking back. Hammond had received one phone call and a hurried report from his CMO explaining that Unanada had been attached to the team at the president's last minute request, as an overseer of Dr. Jackson's welfare.

It had appeared that Hammond could leave Unanada's briefing safely in Frasier's hands.

Smith and Jones had come prepared. Prepared with information about the Stargate program, about SG-1, its history, various off-world missions, their allies and enemies, as well as Dr. Jackson's death and resurrection. Outwardly poised, their training and attitude was revealed in little things. In Smith, the taller agent, in how his narrow green gaze focused unblinkingly on Hammond's eyes, seeming to see beneath any surface ease the general presented. The man's short blond hair was set off by an unrelieved black suit, shirt, and tie that seemed to strain across broad shoulders that would be more comfortable in fatigues. Jones was quite the contrast, with an easy smile and a laid-back attitude that invited a 'good ole boy' chin-wagging. The man was just as well-built as his partner, but his perennial slouch, shoulder-length sandy hair, and well-worn suede jacket exuded an aura of comfortable affability. These two worked seamlessly, Smith moving forward towards his goal with unwavering focus while Jones came along behind, ready to laugh, to ease ruffled feathers with a quiet word, and to appear relatable and friendly in contrast.

Hammond had kept his eye on Jones. He was far more dangerous. Luckily, the protectiveness of the men and women of the SGC wouldn't allow them to be fooled by a pair of smiling blue eyes and a soft southern drawl.

The general's initial briefing with the two had been … interesting. As expected, Smith had led off with a list of demands. A dedicated suite of rooms to work in, Dr. Jackson to be bunked – alone – in an adjoining room where the two agents would have access to him twenty-four hours a day, with no interference. Meals were to be provided to their specifications and according to a rigid schedule. The two agents would have control of Dr. Jackson's movements including his access to his teammates, to the surface, and to any communication from Hammond or other teams. 

Isolate. Control. Substitute the detainee's support system with their interrogator. Allow 'rewards' of contact with friends or family at the interrogator's whim. It was all classic. Textbook.

Hammond had been ready for it.

"I can concede to all of these demands, gentlemen," he'd responded, managing to surprise a twitch out of Smith's eyebrows before the agent shut down his reactions. "However, this is a front-line base and that," Hammond had pointed at the viewing window and the Stargate beneath, "will not take orders from me. We have no idea what kind of emergencies may occur while you are interrogating Doctor Jackson –"

"Questioning," Jones had interrupted with a concerned frown.

"I call them like I see them, Agent. As I was saying, we have SG teams in play, off-world allies that we are sworn to aid. There are likely to be base-wide alarms and calls for SG-1 to report. And, as you should know, Doctor Jackson's expertise could be highly instrumental in the survival of our people out there in the universe." He'd sighed, lifting both hands in surrender. "I'd like to promise you the time and isolation you seem to think you need, but I cannot, in good conscience, do so."

Smith frowned. "We expected push-back, General. We were warned that this command would not be cooperative."

"I can't see how I've been uncooperative, Agent Smith. I'm simply filling in some unfortunate gaps in your information about the SGC and about the day-to-day necessities of a posting here."

Jones had shifted in his seat, appearing to flick aimlessly through a thick sheaf of reports. "And you can't release him into our hands because of the danger of these so-called Ascended beings?" He tapped a finger on the open file. "Outside, on the surface, even protected by our military, these beings could retaliate to any perceived threat to Doctor Jackson with lightning strikes?"

"It's a definite possibility," Hammond had replied. "We simply don't know if the powerful beings have any further interest in Doctor Jackson. And I'm not willing to risk their interference on this planet as they did on Kheb. Even taking Doctor Jackson to an isolated area would require travel through some dense populations. Can you imagine what would happen if the Ascended beings suddenly took your actions as hostile in the middle of Colorado Springs? Or Washington, DC?" He shook his head. "The innocent people on this planet cannot be exposed to that kind of danger."

"'On this planet,'" Smith had echoed.

Hammond had matched the man's frown. "Yes."

Smith and Jones had shared a long glance across the briefing room table.

Shifting uncomfortably, Hammond had leaned forward. "What are you suggesting, Agent Smith?"

"I think my partner is considering your concerns, General Hammond." Jones had smiled wryly. "There's no reason to compromise Earth, or your base here, is there? Not with access to a hundred worlds through the Stargate?"

"A hundred –" Hammond had snapped his mouth closed. "Oh, so you want us to just dial up some random world and let you take Doctor Jackson through for the duration of this little scenario? If so, you are far more stupid than I took you for."

Jones had one hand raised before Hammond stopped speaking. "Sir. No."

Smith interrupted. "That would be stupid. And, no, we're not suggesting that."

"Well, what then?" The general hadn't bothered to try to hide his frustration.

"You have a site, a buffer world that you use to isolate problems or individuals that it wouldn't be safe to bring to Earth." Smith's words were clear and clipped. "The address for that site isn't accessed as often as this Stargate, is it? Teams don't dial that site for assistance if they get into trouble?" He didn't quite shrug, but the shifting of his weight in the chair gave that impression. "If Doctor Jackson isn't safe here, we will be glad to take our 'little scenario' to that site."

Hammond had stilled, trying to compose himself. At length, he responded, his voice tight. "You're suggesting that you and your team accompany Doctor Jackson to the Alpha Site? Off-world? You have no idea –"

"With all due respect, General, Chris – Agent Smith - and I are ready to proceed. You wouldn't believe the strange places we've been posted to. I'm willing to bet," Agent Jones had flashed another smile, "that there are some places here on Earth that are stranger and more threatening than what we'll find on your Alpha Site."

"Well then you two are –"

"Before you call us stupid again, General," Smith intervened, "I'll admit that we've never been to another planet. We're going to need to rely on you to guide us. We will listen to any relevant commands and take your word for any precautions we need to take. You're the expert here, we're not." Smith had tilted his head towards his partner as if in warning. Jones snorted and slid his eyes away.

"I don't know." Hammond had pressed his lips into a thin line. Lifting his chin, he regarded the man sitting before him. "I'll take this up with the president, gentlemen. I'm not willing to send the two of you into danger just because I disagree with your methods and this mission in general."

Smith had nodded. "We appreciate your concern, sir."

The discussion with the president hadn't lasted long. The man had rubber-stamped whatever Smith and Jones requested, apparently bowing to the pressure being brought to bear on him to get to the bottom of Daniel Jackson's situation. He'd assured Hammond that Dr. Unanada would welcome Frasier's assistance, and that the neurologist took his oaths to 'do no harm' very seriously. It seemed no more than lip-service to the president's conscience, but Hammond would take what he could get.

Colonels Dixon and Ferretti had volunteered their teams to accompany the Washington agents to the Alpha Site. They hadn't been the only ones, but the other teams had – grudgingly – allowed the two colonels pride of place to defend SG-1. Carter and Teal'c had already returned to the Alpha Site from the Reole world, Nesini and his terrified friends still recovering from what they'd seen there. Hammond was happy that the ploy had worked, that the Salish youths had been frantic to escape the imaginary Goa'uld bombardment in one piece. Teal'c's description of the Reole's hallucinations had been told with bloodthirsty glee, up to and including the rampaging Goa'uld whose bloody knife had come close to eviscerating a young Salish man before Teal'c had stopped him with a staff blast.

The three youths were recovering under Dr. Simpson's care while apparently eyeing the Jaffa at the Alpha Site with undisguised horror. The Tau'ri infirmary had a useful isolation suite where the young men were able to calm down and process the Reole antidote in peace. Teal'c had remained with them for the first few hours, reinforcing their 'lesson' with some gruesome Jaffa tales. Major Carter had advised that Dr. Simpson had banned her teammate from the young men's suite for the rest of their recovery, sarcastically citing the diplomatic necessity to keep the kids from having strokes. 

Hammond sighed. One problem resolved. With Teal'c and Carter's agreement to Hammond's plan, taking him at his word that he would shield Dr. Jackson from any harm the two Washington yahoos were likely to bring to bear, they were well on their way to the resolution of this entire mess.

Unfortunately, O'Neill hadn't been as cooperative. The leader of SG-1 had dialed Earth right on time, much to Hammond's surprise, with Dr. Jackson at his side, whole and healthy. Hammond had been tempted to send Dixon through to the Salish world with the details, to allow his SIC to process the idea out from under his commanding officer's watchful eye. In the end, he'd settled for emptying the 'Gate Room, leaving himself and Harriman alone at their posts, and sealed all blast doors and windows before he'd briefed the colonel on the president's team. 

"Sir, with all due respect," O'Neill had begun, seething, "are you nuts? Even allowing those bozos on base was letting them get too close." He'd waved a hand in the air, mostly out of range of the MALP camera. "You know Daniel has little to no regard for personal safety. Hell, he's liable to agree with them and try to get them to sharpen their shovels and dig a little deeper into those gray cells we all rely on to keep us out of trouble!"

"Jack-"

SG-1's archaeologist's attempt at calming his friend had come through loud and clear. It was pointless, but Hammond had appreciated it.

"Now you want to give them access to the Alpha Site?" O'Neill had swept in uncomfortably close to the camera, giving Hammond a zoomed-in view of the man's furious dark eyes. "Give them access to the Tok'ra? The Jaffa? Let them make some contacts outside of the SGC? You do remember that little problem we had a few years ago with another Earth group going behind our backs and stealing technology, right? Does the name 'Maybourne' ring a bell?"

"Colonel O'Neill." Hammond had begun to take the man to task, to remind him of the chain of command, when a hand had come from off-screen and yanked O'Neill out of frame.

"General?"

"Doctor Jackson. I'm very happy to see that you're all right and back with your teammate."

The archaeologist had both shoulders hunched up against the winter chill, his damp sweater obviously doing little to keep out cold. "Thank you, sir. Xe'ls and T'akaya took good care of me." He'd turned to the side for a moment, holding up one finger and making chiding noises at the obviously irate colonel standing next to him. "The Salish Spirits are good friends – they wouldn't have hurt me."

Hammond had nodded. "That's – good to know, Doctor Jackson."

"Yes." Daniel had tilted his head, blue eyes bright. "I thought you might say that." His smile seemed easier, more natural than it had since he'd returned. "I know Jack has his doubts about this Washington team, but I think this is a good idea. As we discussed, keeping this investigation off-planet is for the best. For all of us."

"Investigation – it's a witch hunt, Daniel!" Even a few paces from the pick-up of the MALP's microphone, O'Neill's anger had been crystal clear. "If these two guys have the kind of training I think they have, it's not going to be pretty!"

"Jack." 

Doctor Jackson's tone had held more than the familiar bantering of these two very different men. There was something deeper, something stronger – a firmness of purpose, a confidence that straightened Hammond's shoulders and had him paying strict attention.

"Jack, I understand what General Hammond is doing. How serious the situation could be. And I trust him to have decided on the right course of action." Daniel had turned back to face the camera. "There are a few things to work out with Xe'ls and T'akaya, sir, and then we'll head out to the Alpha Site."

"Doctor Jackson." Hammond had taken a deep breath, held it, and then snapped his control down tight. "We're asking a lot of you, son. We seem to do that a lot around here. I'm proud to have you in my command – never doubt that – no matter what kind of trouble comes to look for you."

Daniel had focused, as if he could meet Hammond's eyes in the camera lens. "Thank you, sir." 

"Teal'c and Major Carter are awaiting your arrival." Hammond had cleared his throat. "Colonel O'Neill, you have your orders."

"Well that's just –"

"I'll make sure Jack understands, General." Daniel had cut off O'Neill again. "SG-1 out."

The clunk of chevrons engaging and the whirring of the huge naquada ring distracted Hammond from his thoughts, bringing him back to present, the crowded 'Gate Room, and the possibility that this plan might, just might, succeed.

Doctors Frasier and Unanada had their heads together with Dixon and Balinsky of SG-16, his CMO looking bright and polished in her off-world BDUs as if she hadn't assisted in Rayen's C-section late last night. The Salish woman was resting comfortably with her newborn son by her side in the infirmary, mother and baby doing fine. New life in the midst of danger and stress – a timely reminder for Hammond – for all of them – about their mission here at the SGC. Saving lives. Sharing resources. Making allies. Standing together against the death and darkness of the Goa'uld.

Smith and Jones had donned the black fatigues provided for them, were checked-out on and equipped with appropriate field weapons, and stood ready to ascend the ramp wedged firmly between SG's 2 and 16. Smith was all cool control and watchfulness, muscles tense as he eyed the insignia-free units assembling around him. Jones had stepped away from his partner's side, his attention fixed on Hammond for a heartbeat before the agent made his way towards his position.

"Sir," Jones greeted him, two fingers touching the rim of his cap.

"Agent."

Jones looked up as the wormhole engaged, the bright plume of energy erupting straight out. The blue reflection danced across the man's face, his eyes open wide. "Wow. Sir," he pulled himself back from his initial reaction and faced the general again. "Sorry, sir. That's – that's amazing. More than I expected."

"It takes all of us that way the first time," Hammond responded evenly.

Ferretti shot a look back at them, eyes narrowed. Hammond held up one hand to forestall SG-2's command to move out.

"Something I can do for you, Agent Jones?"

"No, sir. This," the sandy-haired man gestured, shaking his head, "this is – really something. I just wanted to thank you – on behalf of Chris and myself. We know this assignment is not exactly welcome. That everyone here is extremely protective of Doctor Jackson, and rightly so, by what we've read and seen. He's obviously an asset to the program."

"He's more than that, son," Hammond nearly growled in response. "He's a friend. And a man who's lost far more than many of us because of this program."

"Yes, sir." Jones nodded. He straightened, putting off the 'good-ole-boy' attitude and coming to crisp attention. "I want to assure you, sir, that Agent Smith and I, we'll obey our orders. But we also want to do right by Doctor Jackson. And your people here."

Hammond pursed his lips, his glance flicking between Jones' earnest gaze and the sharp profile of his partner against the glow of the event horizon. "Is that right?"

"Sir, it is."

Hammond let the silence of the waiting troops, the on-edge watchfulness of the members of the SGC, and the humming electricity in the air draw out the tension between them. Jones held his stare, unflinching. Over the agent's right shoulder, Smith did not take his eyes from the wormhole.

"I hope so, Agent Jones," Hammond finally responded. "For all of our sakes, I hope so." He nodded towards Colonel Ferretti. "Time to ship out, Agent."

"Yes, sir."

By the time Jones had stepped to his partner's side, Ferretti had given the command and SG-2 were moving up the ramp, two-by-two. Behind them, Smith and Jones moved almost in step with each other. Just before the event horizon, Smith looked back over his shoulder and met Hammond's eyes. 

Left standing at the base of the ramp as his men shipped out, Hammond wondered if he'd imagined the wide grin that split the taciturn agent's face and the sparkle in the man's green eyes before he disappeared into the wormhole. The general waited until he heard the sizzle and pop of the closing wormhole before he let the tension drain from his shoulders. "Godspeed people," he murmured.


	11. Chapter 11

Was it strange, Daniel wondered to himself, that the black fatigues he'd put on at the Alpha Site felt more comfortable than his civvies? Standing between a military colonel and an alien, a gun riding on his hip, his boots solidly planted on the ground of an alien planet inhabited by Tok'ra and Jaffa, Daniel wondered again at his life. A simple academic defending his theories had been snapped up by the military and pressed into a cosmic battle against evil. Among those he numbered his friends were soldiers, warriors, scientists, a former general sharing his body with a snake, men and women who wore flowers and twigs in their hair, Ancient powers, a needy android, Roswell greys, princesses, and Unas. Folding his arms, Daniel shook his head, a smile curling the edges of his mouth in spite of the danger that sparked around him. Here, in the midst of situations even sci-fi writers would find hard to believe, Daniel found himself truly at home.

After all, in the pie chart of Daniel's life, the wedge colored in with 'on duty or off-world' would take up most of the circle, with 'has a life' a slim sliver beside it overshadowed by sleeping, eating, and trying to convince bureaucratic figures that, no, he wasn't dead after all.

Seriously. No one should have to do that three times.

He lifted his head and glanced around. It was quite a welcoming committee the SGC had put together for the Washington team. Flanking the Stargate on one side, Jacob Carter and Aldwin of the Tok'ra watched with an unusual level of hauteur, even for them, with Raknor and another sizable Jaffa matching them arrogance for arrogance. On the other side, Colonel Reynolds, the current commander of the Alpha Site, stood beside his three armed-to-the-teeth Marines and Dr. Simpson. Front and center, with no pretense of hiding or making the visiting agents search him out, stood Daniel and his team.

His pack.

A former First Prime of Apophis, a warrior to the bone, Teal'c was as solid as a mountain on Daniel's left. Their odd-couple friendship had grown from fear to wary suspicion to a deep, dark bonding of two souls who could acknowledge that strength wore many faces and had many definitions. If souls could grow like plants, from different seeds and soils, battered by separate storms but towards the same bright sun, then that would explain the connection Daniel shared with Teal'c. They'd shared guilt and regrets, stubbornness, and the ache to make a difference, to become more than they were. Sha're had brought them together. Her death had nearly torn them apart. But, ultimately, Daniel and Teal'c recognized each other as flawed men trying their best to keep their friends safe – and to make up for past mistakes. No explanations were necessary with Teal'c. A shared silence in the darkness lit only by candles said enough.

Samantha Carter. Brilliant in every sense of the word. Daniel glanced past Teal'c's wide shoulders to share a look with his sister. He'd heard people describe them as 'science twins.' 'Wonder Twins.' The brains behind the Stargate program. At other times, Daniel would have laughed at anyone who raised him up to Sam's level. Now, perhaps, he'd be a little more willing to acknowledge his own contributions to his pack. But this woman – soldier – scientist – utterly beautiful teammate shone like a rare diamond. And, sometimes, cut just as sharply – herself as often as others. The two of them had snapped smartly into place on either side of their team - balancing brain and heart – from the beginning. But, somewhere along the way they'd pulled out of alignment, Daniel's doubts pushing him too far apart to see his way back to their comfortable friendship. He nodded, holding Sam's bright blue gaze, surprising a quick indrawn breath and fresh tears in her eyes. Yes, Daniel promised across the space between them. They would be okay. Better.

On his right, Jack fidgeted. Muttered. And then settled back into place, his shoulder brushing against Daniel's. If Sam was the brain, Teal'c the strength, and Daniel, reluctantly at times, the heart of their pack, what did that make the man beside him? His pack leader. His friend. Jack O'Neill. Daniel didn't need to turn his head to see him, to remind himself of the square chin, the shadowed eyes, and the strong backbone. He had plenty of memories of the man to play against the screenplay of his own life.

Jack O'Neill. The one who'd welcomed Daniel back to Earth time after time with a smile, a joke, and a hand on his back to gently – but firmly – slot him back into place at his side. The Jack who had championed every child's cause, from Cassie to Ryac to Crystal-Charlie to Merrin. Who stood between his team and every enemy, even allies, until their trust had been earned. The man who had an irreverent joke ready for every occasion, who had a need to move, to touch, to pace out the borders of his existence, edge to edge, wherever he found himself. Jack had hauled them all up to the surface time and time again so that they could see the sun, feel the wind on their skin, and look around them to realize just what they were fighting for. He'd yanked Daniel back from the abyss of sarcophagus addiction, stood at his side on Abydos while they laid Sha're to rest, and had kept Daniel's locker, his journals, and his most personal possessions even after Daniel had walked away. 

It was hard to reconcile this Jack with that crew-cutted, uniformed automaton Daniel had first met beside a badly translated coverstone. Colonel O'Neill of the first mission to Abydos seemed another person. A dead man walking around in sagging skin, content to be pointed towards his fatal goal if it would end his own suffering.

Daniel's eyebrows lifted with sudden understanding. Well, it was obvious, really, when he looked hard enough, when he took a step back and studied his complicated, loyal, devoted friend.

Jack O'Neill was the life of SG-1.

Life. Strength. Brains. Heart. The wolf within Daniel howled welcome. This was Daniel's family – his brothers and sisters. His pack. They might push and pull, argue, fight, disagree on everything, bark and snarl, but they'd bleed, break, and storm the gates of hell for each other. General Hammond and Janet Frasier hovered close by. Beyond them, Jacob and Raknor, R'yac and Bra'tac, Kasuf, Lya and Lotan, Harlan, Xe'ls and Tonane – even Oma – lingered on the edges. As the seventh chevron locked into place, Daniel smiled and settled his soul within the embrace of his pack. God, he was happy to be home.

The blue wave broke open and the wormhole and settled back into calm ripples, casting a glow across every face, alien and human. As the event horizon stabilized, Daniel felt the cloudbank form up behind him. Black and boiling, they gathered out of a clear blue sky with no wind, no touch of a breeze, no hint of moisture. The sudden charge of electricity in the air raised the hairs on his arms and shivered like a knife blade along his spine.

Ferretti and his team watched the skies as soon as their boots hit the stone. Daniel saw the way their hands tightened on their weapons, but these men were veterans of the weird and the strange and they barely hesitated as they moved down the steps towards SG-1.

The two Washington agents stepped through next. Teal'c and Jack pressed in a little closer, their shoulders tight against Daniel's. He remembered a time when his first reaction to their protectiveness would have been impatience. Disdain. Not today. The wolf within him chuffed agreement before falling back to watch and wait, beneath the surface, in case Daniel needed him.

"Well, holey sh-"

Next to him, the tension that had locked down over Jack's muscles since Tonane's world changed. Jack had hated Hammond's plan, his idea to send the two Washington agents out to the Alpha Site where they could 'debrief' Daniel and keep Earth safe from any Ascended Being's anger. Daniel had talked his friend down from full alert, take-no-prisoners resistance to reluctant agreement, but he'd felt Jack's doubt, his bitter disappointment that the politicians wouldn't leave Daniel alone. But when the two strangers stepped through the wormhole onto the Alpha Site, Jack was surprised. Maybe even a little bit excited. 

"Huh." Jack's response was more of a movement of air than a word. 

"Someone you know?" Daniel murmured.

After a moment of crowded silence, Jack stepped back to flank Daniel. "Maybe."

Daniel waited for more. And waited. Staring at Jack's profile, his dark, narrowed eyes following the two agents as Colonel Reynolds greeted them, Daniel hummed a question. "Change of plans?"

Tearing his gaze away from the newcomers, Jack flashed him an assessing look. "No. Let's … see how this plays out." The man's protectiveness still shone from every pore, but his murderous edge had softened.

From his other side, Teal'c spoke. "You are sure, O'Neill?" Of course, the Jaffa wouldn't have missed Jack's strange response.

Dixon's team brought up the rear, urging Janet and the wide-eyed doctor at her side away from the Stargate platform. Behind them, the wormhole shut down with the usual snap leaving a stifling silence in the air.

Daniel was impressed. The two Washington agents seemed calm but observant. They took in the alien leaders, the vast camp of the Jaffa, strong warriors barely pausing from hand-to-hand training to look up. The Tok'ra tents, quieter, less visually imposing, but with an air of studied intensity, of fearlessness, that drew the eye. In the center, the SGC's site was unspectacular, bland, the youngest sibling striving for peace between his big brothers. Both men had more interest in the encroaching storm, standing shoulder to shoulder as they watched the sky darken over Daniel's shoulder.

The dynamic of the two men seemed familiar. Daniel smiled, appreciating the roles they'd each chosen to play here. Straight-backed Smith. Congenial Jones. These two had some history, their ease of give-and-take speaking to years of working together and, if Daniel had to guess, a deep abiding friendship. He cocked his head, assessing. No, if he'd had to guess, these were not the type of men he would have expected to be doing the bidding of Washington. These men seemed more like - Daniel snapped his gaze to Jack and then back again – like them.

Daniel heard Jack's snort of laughter as Selmac took over from Reynolds' introduction. The Tok'ra's doubled voice rang out loud and clear in the heavy silence. 

"I stand here as High Councilor and witness. Daniel Jackson is considered a valuable ally and friend of the Tok'ra." The Tok'ra had his hands clasped behind his back, looking down his nose at Jones' offered handshake.

"Sir," Jones began, smiling.

Selmac didn't let him continue. "Any harm that may come to Daniel Jackson from the actions of his government will be detrimental to any further relationship between the Tok'ra and the Tau'ri."

"We'll keep that in mind, sir." Jones' drawl seemed to deepen as he answered. 

"Daniel Jackson is also a friend to the Jaffa." Raknor glared, the rough scar on his forehead even more intimidating than a Goa'uld emblem. "It was his actions alongside our brother Teal'c and SG-1 that freed the Jaffa from Goa'uld slavery." His eyes narrowed. "We do not forget."

Somehow, Jones knew to remain silent as his partner stepped forward, Smith's eyes like flint as he stared at the Jaffa. "No one should forget their actions. Their sacrifices. Doctor Jackson's as well as the other members of his team."

Raknor hesitated in the face of Smith's words. "Then your intentions –"

"Our intentions right now," Smith shifted so that he could glance towards SG-1, "are to talk to Doctor Jackson and his team."

"Talk. Nothing else?" 

Smith nodded once. "You and Selmac are welcome to accompany us. And Doctor Frasier, of course."

Thunder rolled across the heavens. Unnatural thunder that did not wane. The drumbeat swelled, flashes of lightning just visible within the massive wall of clouds. Daniel straightened as Smith and Jones approached trailing Raknor, Selmac, and the two doctors. Agent Jones glanced up before facing off in front of Daniel.

"Friends of yours?"

Daniel nodded once. "Yes."

Agent Smith crossed his arms over his chest. "I'd like to think that your first reaction to questions from your government's representatives wouldn't be threats."

"I'm not making any threats," Daniel answered, his voice low and even. "I'm standing here, willing to answer any questions my government wants to ask about my time among the Ascended Ancients." He let a trace of his wolf's growl out into his response. "What I'm not willing to do is pretend these questions, these actions on the part of my government, will not have repercussions. I may be Daniel Jackson, lowly archaeologist and linguist," he felt Jack's snort rather than heard it, "in the pay of said government, with no authority to refuse your techniques, but I am also a member of SG-1. And a friend to many of our allies." He held Smith's cold emerald gaze. "I do not stand alone."

His friends pressed closer. Selmac and Raknor stood taller. The SG teams stepped in to flank SG-1. A single bolt of lightning speared down from heaven to scorch the earth just behind the Washington team. Inside, Daniel's wolf howled.

Behind him, Daniel heard it begin. Shifting sand. Sudden silences where there had been the hum of machinery. Voices cut off midsentence. Smith's stare didn't falter, but Jones was looking past him, his gaze sweeping the distance from side to side of the open land where the settlements had been. Daniel heard the distant caw of the raven, the howl of a wolf, the bark of a fox. He knew what Jones was seeing. 

As Xe'ls and T'akaya moved closer, the Alpha Site disappeared. Tok'ra. Jaffa. Human. Weapons. Tents. One by one they vanished in a flash of light, leaving only bare dirt and sand and the footsteps of Tonane's Spirits. Reynolds' team. Dixon's. Selmac and Raknor. Janet and the other doctor. Ferretti. Sam and Teal'c. Only Daniel and Jack were left, standing toe-to-toe with Smith and Jones. Xe'ls moved to Daniel's left, T'akaya vanishing after brushing against Daniel's leg.

"It is only at Tonane's request that you remain," Xe'ls stated. The gills on his face rippled, his large eyes fixed on the two Washington agents. "He claims that friend Jack and friend Daniel know best. That we should not simply cause all who threaten our friends to be gone." He tilted his head. "We shall see."

"Yeah, thanks," Jack responded, stepping forward. "Now's your chance," he urged the agents, "nobody can hear you but us. No recording devices can pick up anything or give you away." He jerked his chin at Agent Smith. "What the hell are you doing here, Chris? Or are we staying with 'Agent Smith'?"

The Washington agents shared a glance. 

The cold in Smith's eyes melted into warmth. "I let Vin pick the names this time. And you know how much he loves those old westerns." The sandy-haired man on Smith's left smiled wide and touched the brim of his cap as if it was a Stetson.

Jack snorted. "How the hell did you draw this detail, Chris?"

The blond man put a finger beside his nose. "All I can tell you is that somebody in Washington likes you. Well, not you, nobody really likes cranky old Jack O'Neill." Smith turned back to Daniel, his gaze suddenly neither demanding nor dangerous. "But you, Doctor Jackson. Quite a lot of people don't want to look the gift that is your resurrection in the mouth. For a variety of reasons."

"Really?" Daniel was as close to lost for words as he had ever been. "Um – that's – good to know?" Eyebrows lifting, he turned towards Jack who seemed to be extremely proud of himself for a reason Daniel couldn't figure out. "Want to introduce me to you friends?"

Smith raised a hand to stall Jack. "I think we'll just stay Smith and Jones for now. Doctor Jackson," he shook Daniel's automatically outstretched hand, "I'm Chris and this is my partner Vin. And we're very pleased to meet you."

"Uh-huh. Well, I'm Daniel and I'm very confused." He shrugged. "So this investigation is just a cover? And your demands to General Hammond were, what, a front?"

"No." Vin relaxed into a slouch that looked too natural to be an act, thumbs hooked into his belt. "If we were going to continue at the SGC, we would have needed the isolation and the complete privacy we asked for, not because we wanted to use interrogation techniques, but because we didn't."

"Because of the SGC's little rodent problem," Jack added.

"Exactly."

Daniel turned his head slowly to stare at his teammate, eyebrows climbing.

"Rats and moles, Daniel."

"We were trying to get General Hammond to send us off-world, figuring the risk to Earth and the SGC would be too great to address this there." Vin shrugged. "He's a good man, Hammond. We didn't want him to get into any trouble for resisting his orders."

Daniel turned back to face the two strangers. "So, wait, let me get this right, you're not here to extract any knowledge I might retain from when I was Ascended? The powers that be have, what, shrugged their shoulders and developed a 'who cares' attitude concerning alien influence or advanced weaponry or, or –"

"Doctor Jackson." Chris interrupted, his voice firm but kind. "We would like to ask you some questions, to have Doctor Unanada check your brain scan, and, if you're willing, put you into a light sedated state so that we can see if there's anything in your subconscious that your conscious mind can't quite reach. Like those memories of Bra'tac and R'yac you successfully accessed." The man's green gaze was intense, focused, but not threatening. "And then we can stamp this situation 'closed' and move on."

"Daniel?" Xe'ls interrupted.

Mouth closing with a snap, Daniel gestured at the two agents. "I'm sorry. Xe'ls, we might have overreacted –"

"Are you kidding me?" Chris laughed. "This is perfect. Jack's right, we can talk, come clean about our mission, and there's no way for it to get back to the ears that shouldn't hear it. I'm sure you trust your people, Jack, but you never know who's vulnerable to a little well-placed blackmail." The agent held out his hand towards the silver-robed alien. "I'm very pleased to meet you, Xe'ls. And glad these guys have someone like you looking out for them."

The Spirit gazed at the agent's hand for a long moment. "Daniel Jackson remembers nothing of his time with those who roam the stars."

Chris traded glances with Jack. "Ah – he was able to -"

"Stop." Thunder roared. Xe'ls raised both hands.

"Wait, Xe'ls," Daniel stepped forward. "They don't understand. Please. They'll listen." He turned towards the two agents. "You are going to listen to Xe'ls, right? To believe what someone from a very powerful, a very, very advanced race is going to tell you?" He tried to prompt the two into answering the question the right way with voice and eyes and body language. Now was not the time for Xe'ls to decide that the simpler way of protecting Daniel was to make these men disappear forever.

"They'll listen," Jack growled.

"We will," Chris agreed, Vin nodding behind him.

Xe'ls narrowed his eyes and slowly dropped his hands. "Daniel has chosen. His spirit no longer seeks the ways among the stars. That connection has been broken."

"It was Xe'ls who helped me make the choice," Daniel explained. "And he was right. I couldn't live like that, torn between two planes of existence. A foot in each world." A scent of longing, a fleeting touch of power drifted across Daniel's mind. His smile felt worn, a little tattered, but his resolve was unchanged. "I'm here. Human. Just like you."

"And that?" Vin pointed upward.

Daniel sighed. "Just a precaution." He reached out towards the blond man, brushing his fingers along the man's vest and showing the two agents the bright yellow powder on his fingertips. "Some other friends helped us 'convince' you that I have powerful beings backing me up." He shook his head. "The Ancients aren't really here. It's an illusion."

Lightning flashed among the clouds.

"That's some illusion," Chris murmured. "Huh. Doctor Jackson, I think our report just wrote itself. We have Doctor Frasier's initial scans, and the word of Earth's most powerful allies to back it up." He waved a hand in front of his face. "There's nothing to see here."

"Well, there's something to see," Vin added, his eyes lighting up. "If you and Xe'ls are willing to put everything back, we'd love a tour."

"That's it?" Jack slapped his hands together. "Excellent. Xe'ls, if you would."

"Daniel?"

"I trust them," Daniel said, suddenly convinced – and tired of all the strategies and scrutiny. "Thank you, Xe'ls."

The alien clapped his hands together and the Alpha Site roared back to life around them.


	12. Chapter 12

Epilogue

The Salish chants filled the air, bells ringing, drums thumping in time with the dancing feet of the warriors on the hard-packed earth. Night was falling, the stars a wash of fire in the clear winter sky. Nesini led his people down the pathway along the broad river, the fast-running water dark green in the center fading to still, icy pools at the near edge. Nesini and his warrior-brothers danced beside the bier where his father's body lay under a blanket of fine wool and boughs of evergreen. SG-1 had been allowed pride of place with the family just behind the village elders, where Janet walked at Rayen's side, ready to help the new mother if she stumbled. Daniel had little interest in recording the cultural nuances of the Salish people – his heart was grieving. For Tonane. For the loss of his bright spirit among his people. And for the people of Earth who would never get to know him, the Salish, or the alien Spirits who lived among them. Because of the threat of the Goa'uld, this culture – among many – would be lost to them behind a buried Stargate.

Tonane had lived long enough to hold his grandchild – a miracle by Janet's estimation. Daniel blinked away tears at the memory. The Salish man had a wide smile on his face when Rayen lowered the baby into his waiting arms, his smile mirrored by his grandson's toothless grin. With steady hands Tonane had placed two fingers on the babe's bald head and chanted a blessing. "He is strong," Tonane had said as the babe wrapped a pudgy hand around his smallest finger and held on. "I am sorry to leave you, little one," he'd whispered, "but the river calls to me and I must go. I will see you again."

The babe had sighed, nestling into his grandfather's embrace and Tonane had closed his eyes, a smile lingering even in death.

Xe'ls and the other Spirits were waiting in a clearing at the river's edge outlined by pots of low-burning peat. Xe'ls, T'akaya, and a few others stood near the shore, many others watched from within the shelter of the trees, their silver robes glittering in the starlight.

The Salish stopped, the dance and song coming to an end as Nesini turned to face his people.

"My father taught us much. He taught us the ways of our fathers. Of the Spirits. He walked through the Circle of Standing Water to other worlds and learned of the dangers there – and the friends who waited beyond." Nesini swallowed, grief and sorrow etched into his young features. "I wish I had listened better. Opened my ears to hear his wisdom. But I know his words were not lost. They are among us. Remembered. They will become a long verse in the tale of our people."

"Tonane had many friends. Among the Salish. Among the Spirits. Even among the stars." Nesini caught Daniel's eye and shared a nod. "He taught us to value our friends, no matter their shape or their stories. Now he goes to the river to learn new things and make new friends."

Two warriors knelt and lowered the bier onto the ice at the river's edge. Xe'ls and then each of the other Spirits, in turn, lifted their hands, palms together, and Tonane's bier was surrounded by a haze of golden light and lifted to hover a few scant inches above the ground. The sound of wooden flutes trilled as the bier was carried out past rocks and boulders, and then lowered into the center of the current where it was caught and flung into the distance. Just at the edge of his vision, Daniel saw a swirl of light lift off to drift higher and higher until it faded into the brilliant stars above.

Daniel stood silently, his team around him, and said good-bye as the Salish moved into a new song, a new dance, to wish Tonane safe journey. After a moment, the Spirits, each one staring up into the sky, transformed into their animal forms. A bear. A panther. A deer. A salmon that leaped into the water. An eagle perching on a high tree branch. Each one's cry seemed to join with the Salish's song to add harmony, richness, life.

With a loud caw, Xe'ls and T'akaya took SG-1 and Janet Frasier to the Stargate. The alien woman lifted her arm and the wormhole formed, whole and shimmering, seven chevrons brightly lit. Daniel knew this was the last time they'd meet the Salish Spirits – they were prepared to move the Stargate deep inside the planetary core where it would never be unearthed by earthquake or errant archaeologists.

"Thank you," Daniel stated, frowning fiercely to try to curb his emotions. "I – I didn't even know how much I needed your help – how lost I was – until you brought me here." He glanced at his teammates, at the faces of his family, reveling in the close connections he hadn't realized he'd been missing.

"Yeah, thanks." Jack stepped up beside Daniel, fidgeting with his cap. "For everything."

"The Spirits of the Salish are mighty warriors." Teal'c bowed. "And friends."

Sam reached out to clasp T'akaya's hand. "I wish there was a way to keep in touch."

Xe'ls tilted his head. "There are many ways to travel the spaces between the stars, friend Sam. Do not think that we are barred from meeting again."

"We look forward to it," Jack replied, obviously anxious to head off any of the questions on the tip of Sam's tongue. "Daniel?" He waved one hand towards the shimmering event horizon.

"Time to go home." Daniel smiled and, without a backwards glance, stepped through the Stargate.

As the wormhole snapped closed, a tendril of light moved from the Stargate towards the two Spirits. Blown by an unseen wind, it swept around the clearing, settling into the shape of a human woman standing before Xe'ls and T'akaya.

"Oma," Xe'ls greeted her.

"Thank you, my friends," the Ancient said.

The Spirit's gills rippled. "Daniel Jackson has chosen."

"As he should," Oma replied. Her smile shone like the sun. "Although he is wrong, you know."

"Wrong?" T'akaya asked.

Oma's shape rose, expanded, becoming light, warmth, energy. "Daniel Jackson has chosen his pack. But, remember, wolves mate for life. And his pack is bigger than he thinks."

**Author's Note:**

> The song, "Where the River Meets the Sea" reminded me of Tonane and helped me shape this work. Please check it out on YouTube.


End file.
